


Runaway Life

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon, Drama, Future, Romance, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-09
Updated: 2005-10-09
Packaged: 2018-12-27 15:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 39,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12084213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: This is #6 in our Sunshine Files series. Hunter runs away and is found and helped by the Andersons and Brian and Justin. Brian and Justin keep the the family together as the past and present collide.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Brian and Justin had been back from their adventures in South America for a couple of weeks when a new problem reared its head. Sitting in his office trying to get caught up on all the clients he was behind with, Brian glanced at the clock. It was almost nine o'clock at night. He had been at this since seven in the morning. He rubbed his palms over his tired eyes and logged off the computer. It was time to go home.

As Brian gathered up the papers on his desk, he heard a noise from outside his office. A chill ran up his spine. No one should be in Kinnetik at this hour, no one but him.

"Who's there?" Brian called.

"Brian," a voice replied.

"Michael, what the fuck are you doing here?" Brian reacted feeling his heart rate start to slow. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry," said Michael coming through the office door. "I need to talk to you."

"About what?"

"He's gone, Brian. He's gone."

"Gone? You mean Ben? Is heâ€¦?"

"Shit no! Ben's not dead."

"Christ, Michael, can you be a little fucking clearer."

"It's Hunter."

"Hunter? Has something happened to the littlest hustler?"

"Don't call him that," Michael said angrily.

"Okay, okay," Brian said raising his hand. He was startled by Michael's vehemence. It wasn't like he hadn't called Hunter the littlest hustler many times before. "So tell me what's going on."

"Hunter's been having a hard time at school," Michael began. Brian waited as Michael seemed to collect his thoughts before continuing. "Some people found out that he was HIV positive and he's been ostracized ever since."

"I see."

"You don't see, and frankly Ben and I never realized how bad it must have been."

"It's the summer holidays. School has barely started up again," Brian replied noting that school had been back in session for less than a week.

"We knew Hunter was dreading going back. He said as much â€¦ but we kept telling him that everything would be all right."

"But it wasn't."

Michael shook his head. "We had no idea how bad it was. The first day back he was taunted by a group of jocks who called him all kinds of names and told him they didn't want him in their school."

"Did Hunter tell you this?"

"No, he never said anything. Cally, this girl he is friends with told Ben."

"So what happened?"

"Hunter went to school the next day, or so we thought."

"But in reality he didn't," Brian said.

"No, he must have come back to the house, packed a few things, and he left. We didn't realize he was gone until that night when he hadn't returned. When we got worried, we called Cally and she said he hadn't come to school. We found a note in his room saying that he couldn't take it any longer. He had to go somewhere else."

"Have you looked for him?"

"Of course we've fucking looked for him!"

"Andâ€¦?"

"We tried his hustler friends, and they haven't seen him in a couple of weeks. Cally doesn't know anything about him leaving. He has no other friends." Michael sighed.

"Hm," Brian said. "A loving home, a warm bed, no friends, taunting high school jocks, priceless!"

"This is not a fucking joke, Brian."

"I know, but what do you want me to do about it?"

"I â€¦ I don't know. I just wanted to talk to somebody."

"Shouldn't you be talking to Ben?"

"Ben isn't talking much these days. This has really thrown him."

"Have you called the cops?"

"We â€¦ we don't want to get Hunter in more trouble. The police would inform Child Services and they would probably take him away from us, if he's ever found." Michael looked forlorn.

"What about Carl?"

"What about him?"

"Couldn't he put out some feelers or something without raising a great hue and cry?"

"I don't want to take that chance," Michael said rather lamely.

"Then what can be done?" Brian asked slightly exasperated by Michael's lack of action.

"I â€¦ I don't know. I don't know what to do."

"I think you should contact the police if you really want him back."

"Of course I really want him back! How can you say that?"

"If you don't get the police involved, what's the likelihood of him ever coming back?"

Michael grimaced and Brian could see tears welling up in the dark eyes. "I'm hoping he'll come back of his own free will."

"And how likely is that?"

"I don't fucking know â€¦ but it could happen."

"Michaelâ€¦" Brian didn't know what else to say.

"I â€¦ I should go," Michael said hastily wiping at his eyes.

"Come here," Brian said gently. Michael took a couple of steps around the desk and found himself in Brian's arms. Brian kissed him and held on tight.

"Thanks," Michael whispered as Brian let him go, and then he was gone.

 

On the outskirts of Pittsburgh Hunter held out his thumb as another batch of cars and trucks passed him by.

"Shit!" he griped.

He sat down beside his backpack and stared up the road. Nothing else was coming. He ran a hand through his hair wondering what he was going to do. He wanted to go home. He knew that Ben and Michael cared about him, more than anyone ever had. But they had such unrealistic expectations about his life. They thought they could fix everything, but so much of his life was unfixable.

They didn't understand what it was like to be ostracized, to have no one to talk to, to see people draw away in disgust when you walked by. They didn't know how many times he had been pushed and cursed at, now that everyone in the school knew his secrets. If he went home, they would expect him to go back, back to the Hell that he was running from, back to school. Sure, they'd find a new school for him, some place where no one knew about his past. But eventually they would find out; it seemed like they always did. And then he would be in the same position as he had been at his current school. It was impossible to escape from HIV and hustling. They were part of him. They went wherever he went.

Hunter saw lights up the road. He jumped up and stuck out his thumb. The car whizzed by not even slowing. Maybe the people inside the car knew what kind of a pariah he was. Maybe it was written all over his face. "Stay away from me! I'm infected and I'll infect you."

He dropped down dejectedly beside his pack and hugged his knees to his chest. He didn't know where he was going, wherever the car that picked him up would take him. He wished he could run from the infection inside him, but he couldn't. He thought about Ben and Michael. They had done their best, but they truly didn't understand. Ben did â€¦ a bit. He had HIV too. They were blood, as he had said, but he was an adult. He didn't know what it was like to be a teenager, to have your whole life ahead of you, and yet have nothing at all.

More lights appeared out of the darkness. Wearily Hunter got up and cocked his thumb. It was a big rig. Hunter remembered blowing the driver of a big rig when he and Michael had been on the run. That had got them enough money to get home. Home, Hunter thought wistfully. The rig started to slow down and Hunter held his breath. The truck went past him but it was definitely slowing. He grabbed his pack and ran down the road after it. By the time he reached the truck, the driver had pushed open the door.

"Climb in," the man said.

Hunter hesitated for only a second and then climbed up. He set his pack between him and the driver and stared straight ahead.

"Where ya headed?" the driver asked.

"Same place you're going," Hunter replied.

The driver chuckled. "I'm hauling this load to Harrisburg."

"That'll do just fine," Hunter said, and then he knew where he was headed.

 

"Lucy, I'm hooomme!" Bobby announced in his best Desi accent.

"Hey, baby. How was work today?" John countered.

"Where's Claire?"

"Out doing her church thing, and you're avoiding the question. Did something happen at the office today?"

"No, the office is fine. Got a couple of new clients."

"Congratulations. So why the long face?"

"I got a phone call from my mother."

"Oh?" John raised an eyebrow and Bobby sighed. "Is everything okay with your family?"

"Everything is fine."

"Bobby..."

"I know; I'm avoiding the question. They invited me for dinner, to celebrate my graduation and new job."

"Well, we were whisked away by a very excited little blond to Miami right after the ceremony."

"I'll say. I don't think the ink was dry on my diploma before we flew out."

"So, what's the problem? Please don't tell me your parents are like Joan or Craig."

"No, they're not. But they're certainly not like Debbie."

"Who is!"

"Nobody I know. And they're not like your mom or Jennifer. It's hard to explain."

"Bobby, they do know you're gay, don't they?"

"Of course they do. They kind of tolerate it like someone tolerates diabetes. They're not happy with it but they'll live with it the best they can. My mom is disappointed that I won't make her a grandmother some day."

"Bobby, you know I want to have children. When we're ready, we can look into adoption or maybe a surrogate. They know about me? I mean, I did meet them at your graduation."

"They do but I know that when I introduced you as my partner, well they heard me but they didn't listen. I guess they've always been in a weird sort of denial. Never cruel but they would never ask if I had a boyfriend and they'd intimate if I met the right woman. I guess they thought it was a phase. I don't fit the stereotype, not to them anyway."

"Bobby, I think you should call your mother and accept the dinner invitation. If I'm included, I promise to be on my best behavior. If I'm not, no big deal. They're your parents; you should go."

"I'll call them tomorrow. And I know you'll behave, you always do. Besides, you don't act gay."

"You know, Brian's nephew, John, said the same thing. How does one act gay? Up until a year ago, I thought I was straight. In many ways I don't know what gay is or how it feels."

"John, you sleep with a man, you make love to a man. You're gay."

"If you put it that way then yes, I'm gay. Bobby, when did you know?"

"I don't really know. I always thought girls made good buddies not girlfriends. I guess I really knew when I was about 14, maybe 15. Why?"

"Bobby, I never knew. I never really considered the possibility until Brian and Justin came along. And I would have never had the nerve to speak to you without them pushing me. I don't have gaydar. Unless you're someone like Emmett or Agador/Miguel, I'd never assume a man was gay. I know what to do with a woman and I'm still more comfortable flirting with women than men. "

"John, are you trying to tell me something?"

"No. I know it sounds nuts. Let me put it this way. After we met and became involved I knew you were the one for me, my soulmate if you have to put a name to it. I have no interest in any other man. I don't flirt with men; I feel uncomfortable doing that. I've never had a trick. Other men don't turn me on. The thought of being with someone other than you has no appeal for me. If we were to break up, I'd probably go back to a heterosexual lifestyle. It's what I know."

"Not even if you met someone like Justin?"

"Bobby, Justin is a very sweet, smart boy but he's exhausting. I have no idea how Brian puts up with him."

"Probably the same way Justin puts up with Brian but I see your point. So are you saying you're not gay?"

"I'm saying that I met a wonderful person named Bobby Morrison. I fell in love with that person, and it just so happens Bobby is a man. Don't wait, call your mother. I'll go with the flow."

"What did I ever do to deserve you?"

"You were my knight in shining armor, remember? Besides, I think I'm the lucky one."

"We're both lucky. I'll call."

"Good. I'll start dinner and I want you for dessert."

"You know, for a man who doesn't know how to act gay, you certainly know how to turn me on. How do you do that?"

"It's a gift."


	2. Runaway Life

The truck pulled into a service station and the driver looked over at Hunter.

"I need to take a piss, and I'm going to grab a coffee," the man said.

"Okay," Hunter replied.

"Listen, I'm not leaving you in here by yourself. You have to get out."

"I won't touch anything," Hunter promised. He just wanted to stay put. Maybe he could doze off while the guy was gone. He wanted to ride to Harrisburg.

"I'm sure you're the most upstanding citizen on the face of the Earth, but I've learned the hard way. Get out."

Hunter looked at the driver and decided he better do as the man said. There was no point in antagonizing him. "Sure," Hunter said opening the door. "Can I wait for you to come out and ride the rest of the way?"

"Yeah, I guess," the driver said slowly as he locked his rig. "Go take a piss. I don't intend to stop anywhere else."

"Right," Hunter said as the man strode away.

Hunter looked around the lot seeing many other trucks and an occasional driver leaning against his rig having a smoke. Hunter sized them up with world weary eyes. One guy over to his left was definitely interested. Hunter debated earning himself a little extra money. He didn't have a whole lot with him. The man watched Hunter and then crushed his cigarette with the heel of his boot. He started towards the teenager.

Suddenly Hunter felt the weight of all those years he had spent as a hustler, a prostitute. He watched the burly driver approach. He knew the type all too well. The man gave every impression of being a macho redneck. He probably had a wife and five kids at home. But that didn't stop him from loving boy ass. Hunter trembled slightly. He didn't want to do this anymore.

"Hey, kid," the burly man said to him.

"What?" Hunter responded trying to sound confident and sure of himself, even though he felt so weak and vulnerable at the moment.

"I need to get my dick sucked. Know anyone who might be able to do that for me?" the man asked with a lewd grin. Just as Hunter knew this type of man, the guy obviously recognized Hunter for what he was too.

"No," Hunter replied. "No, I don't."

"I think I see just the boy for the job," the driver said placing a hand on each side of Hunter's head and pressing against the boy so that he was trapped against the side of the big rig.

"I, I don't do that anymore," Hunter managed to get out. His heart was racing so fast he could hardly hear himself above the pounding of the blood in his ears.

"Not even for fifty bucks? Not even for me?" the man asked grinning in Hunter's face and pressing his hardness against Hunter's groin.

Hunter felt a sliver of fear creep up his spine. He thought he had left all this behind him, but now he was right back in it. Panic reared its ugly head and he tried to duck under the man's arms. He just wanted to escape. The driver grabbed his jacket and pressed him back against the rig.

"I want my dick sucked and I want it now. I'm prepared to pay. Don't make me take what I want." The threat was very clear and Hunter knew he had to get away.

Suddenly a smile played across Hunter's lips and the man looked at him strangely. "You can have it, buddy, if ï¿½ if you're not afraid of HIV," Hunter said enjoying the change of expression on the man's face. It went from lust to fear in a fraction of a second.

"What ï¿½ what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I have HIV. Maybe you'd like to have it too."

The man was clearly unsure what to do after Hunter's declaration. Hunter felt the grip on his jacket relax and he yanked away freeing himself from the man's grasp. The guy glared at Hunter and then without warning a fist connected with Hunter's face. Hunter went down with a gasp and lay senseless on the ground.

"Fucking infected slut!" the driver screamed at him before he headed back to his rig. He peeled out of the lot moments later thankful that he would not be bringing HIV into his house when he got home to his wife. He'd screw her into the mattress and then maybe he would feel better. He couldn't believe that fucking little asshole hustler that he had almost hooked up with.

Hunter lay semi-conscious on the passenger side of the big rig. He was surrounded by other trucks and no one noticed him as some drivers came and went. Nobody paid any attention if they did notice. Finally the driver of the rig he had ridden in on returned, carrying the remnants of his coffee. He looked around wondering where his passenger had got to. He climbed into the cab and took another glance around. The teenage rider was nowhere to be seen. He started the truck and slowly pulled out of the yard. The kid would have to find another way to get where he was going.

Dust and gravel flew around Hunter as the truck pulled away. He groaned and rolled over opening his eyes slowly. He rubbed his jaw which hurt like hell. He hoped it wasn't broken, but he seemed to be able to open it and move it around. He bet he would have one hell of a bruise in a day or two. He sat up slowly realizing the truck he was hoping to ride in was no longer beside him.

"Fuck!" he said out loud.

With a lot of effort he managed to get to his feet. He needed to get something cold to put on his jaw. Staggering a little bit he made his way to the pop machine outside the truck stop. He put in the required change and got a can of Coke. He pressed it against his jaw and breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed to numb the pain. He leaned against the Coke machine wondering what he was going to do next.

 

"Mmm, dinner was great. Thanks."

"You're welcome. You in the mood for some coffee or tea?"

"No. John, if you don't mind, I'm gonna head up to bed. I'm feeling a little tired."

"Baby, you're too young to be tired but go on. Take a warm shower. You'll feel better. I'm going to make a plate for my mother and clean up the kitchen. I'll be up soon."

"Sounds good."

"Bobby, you asleep?"

"No, just resting. I love how quiet it is. You know, one of the new partners was looking for a roommate to share his apartment in Harrisburg. I considered it for two seconds. It would be so convenient. I'd be home in fifteen minutes instead of an hour. But then this farm has way too many advantages over a city apartment."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?"

"Our nice big bed in our nice quiet room. Your warm comfortable home."

"Our warm comfortable home."

"Our home and of course, you. I missed you during my last year at Penn. I wouldn't mind crashing at Charles' place once in a while, especially if we had an important case. But I couldn't stand five nights away from you. I love you, John."

"I love you too, baby. Did you call your mother?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"This Thursday evening at about seven. That should give me time to get home, shower and change. My sister and her husband with their kids will be there too. And you're invited. Thursday's your home office day, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. And I'll be happy to go with you. You're nervous, aren't you?"

"Yes. Don't get me wrong, I love my parents dearly. They're really good people. I just can't get over the feeling that I've disappointed them by not being normal."

"You mean straight."

"Yes."

"Bobby, have you given them a chance to know you? To understand what it's like to be gay?"

"What are you talking about? When I came out, I went to them first. John, we live in a small town, everybody knows everyone's business."

"That's not what I mean. When we met that night, not the night you rescued me, that first night with Brian and Justin, when I went home I had sort of an epiphany. Seeing those two dance together, hearing them fucking through the walls, I wanted you. I wasn't turned off by the idea of being with you, scared shitless, but by no means turned off. Who do you think I spoke with first thing the next morning?"

"Brian?"

"No, my mother. Her first thoughts were for my safety and then she hoped that I would find someone who would complete me like Brian and Justin complete each other. We had a wonderful talk. It made me appreciate just how lucky I really am. Bobby, try to talk with them. Give them a chance to know you, all of you. And as for them thinking you won't give them grandchildren, I'll wow them with pictures of Gus. Show them that in this day and age anything is possible. If Brian Kinney can become a real dad, so can we. I'll charm the pants off them. Bobby, listen to me, life has a way of running away from you. You can sit there and watch it run or you can chase it and take charge of it. I can't believe you'd back down from a challenge and I'll be right there with you."

"John..."

"Shush, go to sleep. Everything will look clearer in the morning. I promise."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

 

As John and Bobby were going to bed, Hunter was sitting at a picnic table off to one side of the truck stop. He had the can of Coke pressed against his face, but most of the cold had been absorbed into his aching jaw. He popped the pull tab on the can and took a drink of the slightly warm liquid.

His fucking life was for shit! He had decided to leave Pittsburgh knowing that Ben and Michael would be angry and hurt, but knowing that he could never live up to their expectations of him. Now he couldn't even get himself a couple of hundred miles away without getting beaten up. He rubbed his jaw gingerly. It did feel a little better. Maybe he should go into the restroom and take a look at it in the mirror. He drank the rest of his Coke and stood up.

With legs that felt stronger beneath him than they had a while ago, he made his way to the restroom. In the mirror he could make out the beginnings of what would become quite a nasty bruise. He threw some cold water on his face as he heard the door behind him open.

A middle aged man walked in and proceeded to piss at one of the urinals. Hunter eyed him warily. The guy looked harmless enough. When he finished peeing he came up beside Hunter and started washing his hands.

"You okay, son?" he asked frowning as he dried his hands.

"I'm not your son," Hunter retorted in an angry voice.

"Whoa," the man said raising his hands. "It was just a question."

"Sorry, but some asshole eighteen wheeler jock just punched me in the jaw."

"What for?" the man asked looking more closely at Hunter's bruise.

"He wanted my ass, but I wasn't prepared to sell it."

"Hm," the man replied studying the young fellow in front of him. "I have no designs on your ass, but you're welcome to ride with me if I'm going your way."

"Where are you headed?"

"Philadelphia."

"I ï¿½ um ï¿½ I wanted to go to Harrisburg," Hunter said trying to decide if he should accept the offer and just go anywhere to get away from here.

"I could let you off not too far from Harrisburg," the driver offered feeling sorry for the kid.

"Okay, sure, thanks," Hunter said feeling safe around this man.

A few minutes later they were ensconced in the cab of the big rig. Hunter placed his pack against the door and leaned wearily against it. The driver smiled.

"You look like you could use some sleep," he said.

"Yeah."

"Feel free to doze off. I'll let you know when we get near Harrisburg."

"Thanks," Hunter replied scrunching up against the door and leaning his head on his pack.

"Have you got someone waiting for you in Harrisburg?"

"Not exactly," Hunter said as he drifted off.

The driver was about to ask something else when Hunter's steady breathing told him that the boy was already asleep. "I wonder what your story is," the driver whispered as he picked up speed after entering the highway.

Hunter was in the kitchen of Ben and Michael's house. He was eating a huge bowl of Cap'n Crunch. It was warm and safe and nice. He could see Ben and Michael looking at him ï¿½ smiling. If only that was all there was to it.

Suddenly Hunter found himself in gym class at his high school. They were playing murder ball. Everyone had a ball except him. They all started winging their balls ï¿½ at him. He dodged the first one but the next one caught him in the back of the head. The school jocks encircled him, taunting him, calling him names. He heard them saying, "Faggot, hustler, bastard, fucking AIDS!" He covered his ears with his hands and tried not to hear. The balls kept coming at him, hitting him, hurting almost as much as the words. He kept turning, spinning away from the onslaught, but it was impossible. The words and the stinging balls came with desperate regularity.

Hunter moaned and whimpered in his sleep. He felt a hand reach out and shake him. He tried to back away but the hand shook him harder. He opened his eyes with a start.

"Hey, the exit for Harrisburg is coming up. If you want to go there, you'll have to get out."

"Um, yeah," Hunter said uncertainly. He rubbed his eyes and tried to clear his head. Why couldn't everybody just leave him alone?

"Here we are," the truck driver said pulling off to the side of the road.

"Thanks," Hunter called as he hopped down.

The driver waved and gunned the engine heading back onto the road. Hunter watched him go. He looked around. He might as well start walking until he found someplace safe to sleep for the rest of the night. He hoped he could sleep without those dreams. An involuntary shudder swept through him. He had no idea what he would say if he got to his destination. All he knew was that he had to give it a try. It was either that or go back to the streets and he didn't think he would survive that again.


	3. Runaway Life

Hunter rolled over and groaned. His back hurt and he wasn't sure why. He tried to stretch only to find himself confined in a tight area. He opened his eyes and tried to remember where he was. For a fleeting second he thought he was in the foster home where they used to lock him in the closet when he wouldn't behave. That hadn't lasted long, because he had run away as soon as he could. Anything was better than that place, including the streets.

Sunlight flashed in Hunter's eyes as he turned again, and then it all came back to him. He had walked for a long time after he got out of the big rig. He had tried to hitch a ride, but late at night nobody was willing to take a chance on picking him up. Somewhere on what he hoped was the outskirts of Harrisburg, he had seen this house. It was back from the road and had a garage that wasn't attached to the house. He had thought maybe he could get in there and use it as a shelter to sleep. It had been unlocked and he had found an old wreck of a car inside. It was obvious no one had driven it in a long time. He had crawled into the back seat of the car and had fallen asleep almost immediately.

Hunter sat up slowly rubbing his back. He saw the sun shining in the window on the side door of the garage. It was morning and he decided he had better get out of there as soon as possible before somebody discovered him. He crawled out of the car and gave a big stretch hearing his back pop. Years of sleeping on the streets had not done his body any favors. He wondered if not taking his meds every day was maybe having an adverse affect on his body also.

He slung his pack over his shoulder and walked to the side door where he had come in. He looked out the window not seeing anyone around. Carefully he opened the door being as quiet as possible. He glanced at his watch realizing the sun was pretty high in the sky. It was almost ten o'clock. He had been really tired last night.

Hunter let his fingers run over the dial of the watch, remembering the day Ben had taken him into a jewelry store and bought it for him. He smiled sadly to himself as he slipped out the door and hustled down the driveway.

A little way up the road Hunter decided to try hitchhiking once again. Before long a car pulled up and he climbed in with a young man who said he was heading for downtown Harrisburg. Hunter watched the roads they crossed trying to remember things from when he had come here with Ben and Michael. Nothing looked familiar, but he had not been paying attention either.

"What are you doing in Harrisburg?" the driver of the car asked him.

"I'm probably just passing through," Hunter said being as non-committal as he could.

"Harrisburg is a funny place to end up for someone like you."

"Like me?" Hunter asked with a frown. He wasn't sure what the guy meant.

"Yeah, young and able to go anywhere you want."

"Oh, yeah," Hunter sighed relieved that the man wasn't referring to his being a hustler or HIV positive.

"Where do you want me to let you out?"

"Is there kind of a main intersection?"

"Yeah, we're almost to it."

"That would do fine."

"If you say so," the man replied as he pulled over.

"Thanks for the lift," Hunter said as he hopped out slamming the door behind him. The car pulled away and Hunter looked around not sure what he wanted to do. His stomach rumbled ominously reminding him that he hadn't eaten since the can of Coke at the truck stop. He walked along the street until he found a diner that didn't look like it would charge too much for a meal.

He walked in and slid into an empty booth. The place wasn't very busy but it wasn't noon yet. A waitress meandered over and laid a menu on the table in front of him.

"I don't need that," Hunter said. "Could I get a burger and fries and a large strawberry milkshake?"

"Sure thing," the woman replied and bustled away to start the order.

While he waited for her to return, Hunter wondered what he should do. He decided to ask the waitress when she returned. Before long she came back with his milkshake.

"Could I ask you something?" Hunter said.

"Yeah, but advice costs extra," she replied smacking her gum. In some crazy way she reminded him of Debbie and he felt a twinge of homesickness.

"I'm looking for a man who lives outside Harrisburg, but I think he has an office here in town."

"What's his name?"

"John Anderson."

The waitress shook her head. "Doesn't ring a bell. What does he do?"

"He's an architect."

"Well, that explains it," she snorted. "The number of architects we get in here I could count on the fingers of one fingerless hand."

Hunter snorted back. She was almost as weird as Debbie.

"Why don't you try the phone book? There's one over there by the pay phone."

"Thanks," Hunter said. He should have thought of that. He went to look up John's office while his burger was being made. He found the number of a John Anderson, architect. It had to be the John he wanted. As he was about to use the pay phone, the waitress yelled that his meal was up.

In less than ten minutes he had devoured everything set in front of him. He paid for his lunch and went back to the phone. He looked at the open book still at the page with John's number. He wondered what he could say to John. He wondered what the fuck he thought he was doing calling these people. He wondered if they'd tell him to fuck off. He was no relation to them. They had no reason to help him. And then he thought about Brian's nephews and how they had been helped by the people at the farm. Somewhere deep inside him he wondered if they could do the same for him.

Hunter picked up the receiver, dropped in a quarter and dialed the number.

A female voice answered. "John Anderson's office."

"Um, yeah, could I speak to Mr. Anderson?"

"I'm sorry but he's out of the office for the rest of the day."

"Shit," Hunter mumbled.

"Excuse me!"

"I, I need to talk to him."

"He'll be in tomorrow morning."

"Is there any way I can get in touch with him?"

"May I ask who you are and what this is in reference to?"

Hunter didn't like the sound of that question. "Could you give me his home number?" he asked ignoring her question.

"I don't give out that information. If you will tell me your name, I'll tell Mr. Anderson that you called."

"Never mind," Hunter said hanging up the receiver. "Fuck!" Then another idea struck him. He looked for Claire Anderson in the listings. There was no one with that name. Claire didn't live in Harrisburg and Hunter wasn't sure what the name of the nearest town to the farm might be. He tried to remember Bobby's last name, but it wouldn't come to him. Bobby lived with John and Claire so he probably wouldn't be listed anyway.

He was about to slam the phone book closed when another thought struck him. He read the address of John's office and memorized it. He closed the phone book and set it on the shelf. Walking towards the front of the diner, he saw his waitress and stopped her.

"Do you know where Princeton Avenue is?"

She shook her head and bustled away. Hunter shrugged his pack over his shoulders and headed outside. He started stopping people asking for directions to Princeton Avenue. Finally a man told him it was across town to the west. Hunter decided to start walking. He didn't want to spend his money on a cab or bus in case this whole idea didn't pan out. Besides he had all day to get there and all night too as far as that went. He could sleep somewhere near John's office and catch the man in the morning. Surely John would remember him. He would have all night to think up what he wanted to say once he found John. He started walking west resolutely deciding that he would at least give this a try.

Hunter had been walking for a long time. He hoped he was going in the right direction. It was now late afternoon and he was starting to get hungry again. He looked around wondering if there was a store or diner where he might get something to eat. His eyes skimmed over the buildings and he realized that he was not in a very good part of town. There were a lot of empty buildings, most of them rundown. Up the street he saw a group of young men wearing bandannas.

"Shit!" Hunter said to himself beginning to understand what he had wandered into. He turned around and started back the way he had come.

"Hey!" a voice yelled from behind him.

Hunter refused to turn around. He just kept walking all the while wondering if he should run. He heard running footsteps behind him and decided it was now or never. He began running as fast as he could, his backpack slapping against his side as he clutched at it. It slowed him down and he debated tossing it aside.

"What's your hurry?" a voice said as a hand grabbed the back of his jean jacket and yanked him to a standstill.

Hunter turned to face the boy who had grabbed him. He was quickly surrounded by the gang of five boys. "I think I lost my way," Hunter said softly.

"I know you did," the boy who had grabbed him replied. "And that will cost you an admission fee."

"I, I don't have any money," Hunter said.

"Oh, I bet you have some, and you're trespassing in our territory. It will cost you whatever you have."

Hunter shoved at the nearest boy and tried to break through the circle of gang members who had surrounded him. A fist drove hard into his gut and he went down hard all the air forced out of his lungs. The thought of the bruise he would have to go with the one on his jaw was the last thing he remembered as a boot connected with the side of his head. After that all was darkness.

 

"Bobby, breathe!"

"I am breathing. Ugh, this is for shit. I'm 33 years old and scared of my parents."

"You are not scared of your parents. Nervous, anxious, a royal pain in my ass but not scared."

"John, I think you've been hanging out with Brian too much. You're beginning to sound like him."

"I don't know if that's a good thing or not. Now, let's go inside."

"Mom, Dad!"

"Hi, honey, how are you?"

"Good, Mom. You remember my partner, John Anderson."

"Yes. Please come in, we've just sat down at the table. Robert, introduce Mr. Anderson to your sister."

"Please, call me John, only my clients call me mister and then only for the first five minutes. I believe we met at Bobby's graduation. It's Rachel, isn't it?"

"Yes, and it's good to see you again. And this is my husband, George. We didn't get to speak too much after the ceremony."

"I know; I'm sorry about that. We had a plane to catch."

"How were your adventures? It must have been so exciting."

"It was very exciting. I'd show you all the pictures but we're still organizing them. There must be hundreds of them. When we have the albums put together, you all must come for dinner."

"Maybe we can get Brian and Justin to come up for a visit."

"Bobby, that's an excellent idea."

"Who's Brian and Justin?"

"Brian is my half brother and Justin is his partner. They live in Pittsburgh. Justin was the one who discovered my ancestor, John Aidan Brian Kinney."

"Oh yes, I read all about that last year. All those paintings hidden in a root cellar for a hundred years. Your mother must be thrilled; the Farm is finally self-sufficient."

"Enough chatter, I suggest we all eat. Your mother went to a lot of trouble preparing this meal. I suggest we eat it while it's hot."

"Yes, Dad."

"Mr. Anderson, you have an office in Harrisburg, I believe."

"Yes, sir, I do and please call me John. I have a small office there but I'm on the road a lot. I like to keep a close eye on the progress of the buildings I design. My clients have the option of using whatever construction company they choose but I've been doing this for a long time. Some construction crews need more looking after than others. Bobby tells me you're a doctor."

"Yes, I am. Practiced for many years in Harrisburg then decided that our own town needed another doctor, so here I am."

"I agree. I was offered several partnerships but I also wanted to stay close to home. Dr. Morrison, you must be very proud of your son; he graduated top of his class and was sought after by several well known law practices in the state and I also know of a few in New York that wanted him too. Bobby chose to stay here. He has a wonderful sense of community. It's one of his most attractive qualities."

"Mr. Anderson, John, I may want to renovate my office, will you join me in my study."

"Of course, sir."

"John, what are you doing with my son?"

"I'm not quite sure what you mean."

"My son thinks he's a homosexual. I'm sure in time, when he meets the right girl..."

"Dr. Morrison, Bobby doesn't think he's a homosexual, he is a homosexual and has been since he was a boy. He doesn't dislike women; he just has no interest in them. Bobby is a wonderful man, so full of life and love. And he's passionate about the law and making sure the small businesses are well represented. His first client was the Farm. And other charitable organizations around the state are begging him to represent them because he's honest and compassionate. Dr. Morrison, don't let the fact that he's gay get in the way of loving your son. I've seen first hand what that can do to a gay man, or woman for that matter. My brother is a prime example. Brian is brilliant at what he does. He's strong, so smart, so good looking, won many awards for his ads. But for all his accomplishments, all he really wanted was for his father to love him. It nearly destroyed him. If it wasn't for his partner, I'm sure he'd be a bitter lonely man. Now he's a wonderful partner and a loving father."

"A father?"

"Yes, Brian has a beautiful little boy named Gus. Here, look at his picture. That's Justin, Brian's partner and that's Lindsay, Gus' mother and one of Brian's best friends. Anything is possible, Dr. Morrison. Don't shut Bobby out, please. If you don't approve of us, me, that's fine. You never have to see me again but please, for your son's sake, show him that you are proud of him. A son should not be frightened of his father, of his parents. He wants to share so much with you. I know he's close to his sister; they talk several times a week. Before it's too late, talk to him."

"I know your mother. She and my wife are members of the same church. We've worked together on many church functions. She's a good woman and she's raised a good man. I won't say that I'm comfortable knowing my son is..."

"Gay."

"Gay. But if this is how he must live his life then he's lucky to a have a..."

"Partner."

"Partner, like you. You've given me a lot to think about. I love my children and I am very proud of both of them. I want them to be happy."

"Then ask him if he's happy. Ask him what makes him happy."

"I think I will."

"No time like the present. I'll send him in. I'm sure Mrs. Morrison needs some help in the kitchen. I'm a whiz with a coffee pot. And I'd be happy to design something for you, when you're ready."

"Dad? John said you wanted to talk to me. Is everything all right?"

"Yes, yes. Everything is fine. I just thought we needed to talk. I just wanted to tell you that I am very proud of you and I regret not telling you that sooner. You worked very hard to get where you are and with little help from us."

"Dad..."

"Robert, don't interrupt. This is difficult for me. I grew up believing a man makes a career for himself, gets married and has a family. When someone said they were gay, it meant they were happy. You were a happy little boy. I could always spot you in a crowd, flaming red hair and bright smile. We've grown distant and I don't like it. I'd like to get to know Bobby."

"Yes Dad! Oh, yes!"

"Good. Now I think I smell coffee and your mother baked a cake. Let's get out there before your nieces eat it all up."

"Dr. and Mrs. Morrison, thank you so much for inviting me. Dinner was wonderful. Rachel, George, it was good to see you again. After I speak to my mother, I'd love it if you'd come to dinner, real soon."

"Will we get to meet your brother?"

"I think that can be arranged. But I have to warn you, he and his partner are very opinionated. They don't hold back on anything."

"They sound like very interesting people."

"You don't know the half of it. Goodnight."

"Night Mom, Dad. Talk to you soon, Rach."

"Night!"

 

"John?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For tonight. Whatever you said to my father, it, well, I haven't felt this good about my relationship with him in a long time. I feel like I have a second chance, that he really wants to know me."

"And your mother?"

"She's happy if my dad is happy."

"Then we'll have to make sure that the Morrison men are happy."

"I love you, John."

"I love you, Bobby."


	4. Runaway Life

Hunter slowly opened an eye. He groaned as he tried to shift his position. He tried to focus and realized that he was crammed in between two big metal things. He struggled to sit up. A sharp pain shot through his side. He tried to grab his side but found his arm couldn't reach it. He gasped trying to draw in some breath. That hurt too. He wondered if he had a broken rib.

Carefully Hunter tried to assess where he was. He began to realize that what was holding him captive was two dumpsters. He had been thrown in between them and was sort of wedged there. On his back he could look up and out between the dumpsters. It was daylight, but he had no idea how long he had been there. Something about the lack of brightness told him that it was probably starting to get dark. It had been afternoon when he ran into the gang that had put him here.

He struggled as much as he could, trying to force himself out from between the dumpsters. The more he struggled, the more it hurt. And he seemed to be accomplishing nothing. He wondered if he could turn onto his side. He would be thinner if he did and then maybe he could scoot forward and get out. He didn't want to die trapped by dumpsters.

Doing his best not to wrench his ribs, Hunter gradually started to turn himself onto his side. It was a slow, painful process, but he kept at it. By the time he had accomplished his goal and was lying on his side the sun had gone down and it was quite dark. Using the heels of his shoes against the edge of one dumpster, Hunter pulled himself a little way out of his prison. It hurt his ribs to do so but he could now wrap his knees on the edge of the dumpster and pull. He could feel himself moving forward. He prayed he would soon be free.

After a long and painful struggle Hunter sat up and the rest of his body came out of the trap in which they had been held for far too long. He let out a long breath wanting to shout for joy that he was finally released, but knowing how much that would fucking hurt. Carefully he got to his feet feeling somewhat woozy and very unsteady.

He looked around hoping to see his backpack. There was no sign of it anywhere. He wanted to look in the dumpsters but he knew his ribs would never stand it if he tried to lift the lids. He felt the pockets of his jeans and knew immediately that his wallet was gone. They had got the small amount of money that he had brought with him.

He glanced at his arm wondering what time it was. His watch was gone too. He felt tears forming in his eyes. That was the watch that Ben had bought for him. Now they had taken it too. He had nothing ï¿½ just like the rest of his fucking life ï¿½ nothing!

He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand and took a few uneven steps. He found he could walk without too much pain from his ribs. He needed to get to John's office if he was going to find help.

Suddenly he remembered something. It gave him a feeling of euphoria, and he almost laughed out loud. He walked slowly out of the alley and found the street. Thank God there was no sign of the gang that had beat him up. They would be too busy enjoying all the stuff they had stolen from him.

Stepping carefully so as not to twist his ribs, Hunter made his way down the street to the nearest corner. Once he was there he leaned against a power pole and waited. He knew what he needed.

Suddenly a yellow vehicle turned the corner and Hunter stepped out waving at it. He hoped he didn't look too scary to the driver. The cab pulled over and Hunter opened the back door doing his best not to fall into the seat.

"Where to?" the cabbie asked looking at him in the rearview mirror with a frown. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Hunter replied holding his ribs as steady as he could. "I need to go to 538 Princeton Avenue."

"Are you sure you don't want to go to a hospital?"

"I'm sure! 538 Princeton Avenue," Hunter repeated.

The cabbie studied him in the mirror for a minute and then put the car in gear. The ride to John's office didn't take long. He was closer than he had thought, but Hunter also knew that in his condition he would never have been able to walk it. As the cab pulled up at John's office, Hunter pulled off one of his shoes. He silently thanked Michael for his donation that he didn't know he had made to Hunter's traveling fund. And he was glad he had remembered Michael telling him to put his money in his shoe for an emergency. Hunter paid the cabbie and still had ten dollars left.

As the cab drove off, Hunter looked at the dark building. He would have to wait until John arrived. He looked around. Across the street was a little park with some benches and a fountain. He could stretch out on one of the benches and wait for John to arrive at the office. Nobody would probably bother him there. He had nothing left that anybody would want.

 

"John?"

"Mmm."

"Do you really think a dinner here with Brian and Justin is a good idea?"

"Yes, I do. I won't pretend and say it will all go like clockwork, not with those two involved. But you can't deny the love they have for each other and what lengths they'll go to protect one another. Your parents need to see that while it's not a marriage, no two people can possibly be more in love than Brian and Justin. Except for us."

"Except for us. John, remind me again how not gay you are."

"Mmm, my sweet beautiful baby."

John Anderson, architect, master builder, tall, ruggedly handsome. He can ride a horse like a cowboy, muck out a stall, make a phenomenal pot of coffee and stack of pancakes. John Anderson, a bottom to Bobby Morrison's, top. But sometimes a man has to do what a man has to do.

John swept Bobby off his feet, stripping him of his clothes and brought him into the shower. They stood beneath the spray, letting it wash away the day's tensions and worries. John took out his largest and fluffiest bath towel and gently dried Bobby's pale skin now pink from the warmth of the water. They then applied their favorite lotion to each other further massaging away any frets. Again John carried his lover back to their room, kicking the door shut as he deposited Bobby gently onto their bed. Letting his own towel drop to the floor, John set out a dozen tea candles safely nestled in their cups. Lighting them, their soft aroma filled the room with the scent of maple and cinnamon. A man with determination, John's mission was to show Bobby just how much he was loved.

John's body was still dark from their weeks in the burning sun of Central and South America and from time spent working hard outdoors on construction sites. His muscles well defined but not bulky. Brunet hair with one or two silver strands that added a look of confidence and maturity that Bobby found so appealing and incredibly sexy. Piercing hazel eyes filled with love and lust for only one man. John was hopelessly in love with Bobby.

Joining his lover in bed under the warm soft blankets, John gathered the younger man in his arms, kissing him deeply and thoroughly, leaving them both breathless and in need. John explored every inch of Bobby with his fingertips and his lips. Surveying the younger man's body, committing it to memory. John, fascinated by Bobby's body, the pale, flawless skin, except for a sprinkling of freckles on his shoulders. His eyes, a soft grey blue that in some light gave the impression of no color at all. Bobby's hair a deep red like the setting sun and baby fine. There were many times John had to resist the urge to caress Bobby's hair when they were out in public. John felt he could drown himself in flaming locks. Bobby's body was soft yet firm, so deceivingly young looking, a good five inches shorter than John's. John's first instincts were to protect Bobby as Brian tended to protect Justin. But Bobby needed no protection. He was a man wise of the world and quite capable of defending himself.

John lost himself in his lover's scent, inhaling the aroma of Bobby's musk. In the year they spent together and especially in the time they spent in the company of Brian and Justin, John learned how to please his man. While Justin's passions perfectly matched Brian's wild lust, Bobby craved the quiet gentle touch from John. Their lovemaking was slow, almost methodical.

John started his exploration with Bobby's lips, nibbling and licking his way down to Bobby's straining cock. Almost reverently John began his worship of Bobby's cock. Still a bit unsure of himself, John would gaze up at Bobby's face, seeking approval. Bobby's hooded eyes and soft panting spoke to John and reassured him of Bobby's satisfaction. John continued sucking on the darkening mushroom head of Bobby's penis, running his tongue through the slit. John suckled each ball, Bobby spreading his legs wider for his lover. John buried his tongue deep within Bobby's hole and gently nipped at Bobby's inner thighs. Bobby's cock was weeping precum freely.

"John, oh god, close!" Bobby cried out as he felt his balls draw up tight.

"Let it go, baby." John murmured as he continued sucking, licking, willing Bobby's orgasm.

Bobby came with a quiet moan, shuddering as he shot his cum into John's warm mouth. John gathered his spent lover in his arms, waiting until Bobby came down from his sex high. Bobby nestled his face into John's neck.

"What about you? You're hard as a rock," Bobby whispered.

"I can wait. Bobby, do I satisfy you?" John asked, still having doubts about pleasing his lover.

"You have to ask after that? Oh yes, John. For a man who doesn't know how to act gay, you're the most satisfying lover I've ever been with. John, this may sound silly but to look at you most gay men would assume you were a top. You could be your brother's twin and we know how notorious he is."

"Until Justin gets into one of his moods and Brian is flat on his back faster than you can say, 'jump froggie, jump'."

"You're evil, but you're right of course. What I'm trying to get at is, does it bother you that for the most part, I'm the top."

"No, it doesn't. Bobby, Brian and I may look alike but that's where the similarities end. I was nervous our first time together. You were so sweet, so gentle and compassionate. You introduced me to what it was like to be a top and a bottom. The minute I felt you inside me I never felt so completed, so whole, so joined with my lover. I knew right then that that's what I wanted. And on those occasions when our roles are reversed, I want to make sure you feel as loved and joined as I do."

"John, please, I want you inside me."

Reaching for their necessary supplies, John sheathed his cock, all along hoping for the day when a condom would no longer be needed. He prepared himself and Bobby, easing one finger then two into Bobby's tight pucker.

"Please John, now. I want you now."

"Yes, love." John pushed his way in past the first ring of tight muscle then slowly entered Bobby's warm tunnel. John waited until Bobby's face relaxed signaling he was ready. John made love to Bobby, rocking in and out of his lover. Bobby matching John thrust for thrust until they both exploded, John filling his condom, Bobby spraying his abdomen. John gently withdrew, cleaned them both, then snuggled close. Before drifting off to sleep, John and Bobby redeclared their love for one another. John whispered his hope into Bobby's ear.

"Bobby, in time, do you think we can make love without a condom?"

"Yes John, in time, I think we can. I love you."

"Love you so much."

John and Bobby fell asleep even more committed to one another.


	5. Runaway Life

"Hey. Hey!"

Hunter rolled a bit to the side before giving a gasp of pain as his sore ribs rebelled at the motion. "What?" he asked looking up into the sun.

"This is the bench I sit on every morning," some old coot said glaring down at Hunter. "Don't you have a home to sleep in?"

"No, I fucking don't! Now leave me the fuck alone!" Hunter shouted before lying back in agony. Forcing that much air into his lungs had hurt like hell.

"Young people! Complete assholes!" the old man grumbled as he started to walk away. "I should call the cops on you," he said as an afterthought as he glanced back at Hunter.

"Go right ahead," Hunter retorted. At this point he didn't give a crap if they came and arrested him. Maybe they'd give him some drugs for the pain in his chest. That would make it all worthwhile.

He slowly released a breath as he looked up at the sun. It had to be late morning if the sun was so high. He must have missed the opening of the office across the road. He turned carefully so he could look over at it. Nothing seemed to be happening there. He couldn't tell if it was open or not.

He knew he should get up and go across the road and ask if John was there. He tried to sit up as another wave of pain gripped his chest. He slumped back down. Maybe he could just lie there and wait for John to come out. Then he could yell and the man would come over to him. Yeah, that's what he would do. He felt slightly nauseous and closed his eyes against the sun.

Some time later Hunter opened his eyes feeling even worse if that was possible. The sun was no longer in his eyes. It had moved way across the sky. It had to be late afternoon. He must have slept for hours, but he didn't feel any better for having done that. He made a futile attempt to sit up. His head swam and his ribs ached and he gave up the attempt as quickly as he had started it.

With great effort he turned his head to look at John's office. He couldn't tell if it was open or closed. He wondered if he had missed John once again. Some movement just down the street caught his eye. It was the same old man from the morning coming towards him with a cop.

"Shit!" Hunter breathed. He didn't want to be arrested.

"Young man," the cop said, "you have to vacate this bench. We don't allow loitering."

"He's been sleeping on that bench all day," the old man told the cop. "I bet he's homeless."

The policeman looked at the old man like he had three heads.

"They probably don't have homeless people in Harrisburg," Hunter thought to himself.

"Son, get up," the cop said giving Hunter a gentle poke with his nightstick.

"I don't think I can," Hunter gasped as he tried to sit and almost felt himself black out.

"I think I better call the paramedics," the cop said. "He doesn't look so good."

"No!" Hunter blurted out. "No, don't do that. I'm waiting for John Anderson to come out of his office."

"You know Mr. Anderson?" the cop asked.

"Yes, I do. I need to talk to him," Hunter said hoping that might calm the cop's worries and get him to go away.

"How are you going to talk to him when you can't get up off this bench?" the cop wanted to know.

"I'll figure something out," Hunter said with the last of his defiance. He struggled and got part way up. The cop grabbed his arm and attempted to raise the boy the rest of the way. The tug on his arm went straight to his broken ribs and he let out a high pitched yell, almost a scream of pain.

"Hey, what's going on over here?" a familiar voice asked.

"Bobby," Hunter gasped looking at the man who had just spoken. Hunter had managed to stay somewhat vertical after being pulled up.

Bobby stared at the kid on the bench not really recognizing the grubby and bruised face that sat in front of him. "Hunter," he said with disbelief as the light began to dawn, "is that really you?"

"It's me," Hunter managed to get out. "I wanted to talk to John."

"I just came to pick him up from his office," Bobby explained. "Do you want me to get him?"

"They're going to arrest me for loitering," Hunter replied with a grimace more from the idea of the arrest than from actual pain.

"If you know this kid, you should get him to a hospital," the cop interrupted apparently glad to turn Hunter over to Bobby and avoid all the paperwork an arrest would entail.

"Can you stand up?" Bobby asked.

"I'll try, if you'll help me."

"Thanks officer, I'll take Hunter from here," Bobby said standing protectively in front of Hunter.

"Just get him out of here," the cop said, "before I get another complaint." He turned and walked away.

The old man who had called the police looked at Hunter. "I want my bench back."

"I'll happily give it to you," Hunter retorted. "You should get your name carved into it," he added as Bobby helped him up.

"Vandals!" the old man yelled as Bobby and Hunter slowly made their way over to the Lincoln Navigator that sat in front of John's office. Bobby eased Hunter into the back seat.

"Buckle yourself in, and I'll go get John. Oh, did you have a knapsack or anything?" Bobby asked looking across the road to where the old man had taken his rightful place on his newly vacated bench.

"Not any more," Hunter said. "It's a long story," he added as Bobby gave him a funny look before heading into the office. Hunter carefully pulled the seatbelt around him and snapped it shut. He leaned his head back against the headrest. Maybe now he was safe. He closed his eyes.

"Hunter, we're taking you to the hospital," John said climbing into the driver's seat as Bobby got in the passenger side. "Bobby told me how he found you. You need medical attention by the sound of it."

"No, please John, can't I just go home with you for a couple of days?" Hunter begged.

"What the fuck are you doing here? What happened to you?"

"Some guys beat me up and stole my backpack and my money, and my watch," Hunter said choking back the tears. He missed the watch more than anything else.

"Fuck!" John replied. "I'm taking you to the hospital to get you checked out."

"I think they broke a couple of ribs. That's all that's the matter with me. It hurts like hell when I move, but they don't do anything about broken ribs anymore. Please, I don't want to go to a hospital."

"I don't know," John said wanting to help Hunter and do what he wanted, but his better judgment told him that the hospital would be wise.

"If you'll let me stay with you for a couple of days, I'll tell you the whole story. I'll be fine," Hunter said as strongly as he could muster. "I haven't eaten or drank anything since yesterday. That's why I'm so fucking, helpless," Hunter admitted as a tear ran down his face.

"All right," John said decisively. "This is what we're going to do. Bobby, call mother and ask her to see if old Doc Adams will come over and look at Hunter. If he says you need a hospital, we go. Okay?" Hunter nodded in the rearview mirror as John started the SUV and pulled away. "There's a bottle of water in the glove compartment. Drink it slowly," John ordered. Hunter nodded as Bobby handed it to him. "And I'm going to drive home missing as many bumps as I can."

"Thanks," Hunter said seeing John smile at him in the mirror. He opened the bottle of water and took a big drink.

"Drink that slowly or you'll make yourself sick," John advised. Hunter nodded and sipped at the water.

Bobby was already on the phone to Claire.

"It'll be all right, Hunter," John said. "You're safe with us."

Hunter closed his eyes as more tears ran down his face. Those were the best words he'd heard in weeks.

 

"Claire, I thought the Farm was closed up for the season."

"It is, although I think Hunter may benefit from some time there. He's not one of the boys, Dr. Adams. He's the son of a family member. Will Hunter be okay?"

"In time. He has a few cracked ribs, some nasty bruises and cuts. He looks like he could do with some of your fine hearty meals. With rest, he'll be fine in a few weeks. The boy allowed me to examine him. He wasn't sexually assaulted but he may have been in the past. You said you know his family?"

"The boy's parents haven't abused him, if that's what you're thinking. Hunter has had a very hard life. His adoptive parents saved him from the streets. I don't understand what he was doing in Harrisburg. They live in Pittsburgh."

"He intimated that he ran away from home. He's over seventeen so I can't force him to go home nor can I call his parents without his permission. He needs time to sort things out. Claire, you must be careful, he did admit that he's..."

"HIV+, I know. I've read all the literature. You can't get it from casual contact."

"But the boy has open scrapes and bruises."

"I'll be careful. You said he needs rest, he'll get it."

"Bring him to my office in a week. I can x-ray his ribs, check the abrasions. He may take longer to heal. You call me if you need anything, understand me."

"I understand. Thank you, Dr. Adams."

"Claire, I've known you and John for a lot of years. I know how you are with strays and your pet projects like those two boys last year. You were lucky with those two; this one may be different. I know I'm just a country doctor but if this kid has spent time on the streets, you might not be able to work another miracle."

"I'm aware of that but I have to try. I'll show you out and I have a batch of cookies for you."

"Ms. Anderson, will you marry me?"

"I think Mrs. Adams may have an objection."

"That she would. Thank you for the cookies and good luck with the boy. Remember, call me anytime and be careful."

Claire took a deep breath as she gazed up the stairs. Hunter was safely ensconced in the guest room. John and Bobby had helped the boy to shower. Bobby gave Hunter a set of clean sweats to wear and Hunter had eaten two roast beef sandwiches and drank a quart of milk while they waited for the doctor to come. Hunter allowed Bobby to stay with him as the doctor did his examination and Bobby learned how to safely bind Hunter's ribs and dress his wounds. Before the doctor had left the room, Hunter was fast asleep with Bobby keeping vigil in the overstuffed chair just as Brian had done when the spawn were saved by Brian the previous year. Claire joined her son in the living room.

"What happens now?" John asked his mother, handing her a cup of tea.

"I'm not sure. I guess it's up to Hunter. I should call Ben and Michael. I'm sure they're sick with worry. Did Hunter say why he ran away or when?"

"No. He was so tired when we found him and he was about to be arrested for loitering. We just put him in the car and brought him home."

"Well, that was the best thing you could have done for him. We'll have to wait until he wakes up before we make any decisions. Jackie, I know it's not late but I'm exhausted. I'm going to bed. Wake me if there's a problem."

"I will. I'm going to lock up the house then go relieve Bobby. Bobby's been hovering around Hunter like a mother hen. You'd think Hunter was Bobby's son."

"Hmm. Goodnight, Jackie."

"Night, Mom." Mother and son shared a hug, Claire kissing her son's cheek then she retired for the night. John locked up and ascended the stairs.

 

"Bobby?" John whispered as he peered into the guest room.

"Mmm?"

"Come on, Baby, take a break. I'll stay with him while you get some sleep."

"I'm all right. I'll stay for a while."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Besides it's Friday night; we have no plans for this weekend."

"Okay. Try to get some sleep. You heard Doc Adams, Hunter will be okay."

"Yeah," Bobby whispered back as John shut the door. "I'm not so sure about that." Bobby mumbled to himself as he got up to tuck Hunter in then resettled himself into the chair. It was going to be a long night.

Late the next morning Hunter woke with a start.

"Where am I?"

"You're safe, Hunter. You're at Claire's."

"Bobby?"

"It's me. Are you in pain? I can get you some Tylenol or Motrin."

"I'm okay; it only hurts when I breathe."

"Here, take these." Bobby handed the boy a couple of Motrin and a glass of water.

"Thanks. I guess I should get going. Where are my clothes?"

"They were filthy and covered in blood, so we threw them out. You are not going anywhere."

"You can't keep me here. That's kidnapping and I'm above the age of consent."

"I know that, I'm a lawyer, remember. In that case, you may want to rethink your travel plans. You're wearing my clothes so unless you want to run away again naked, I suggest you stay here and gratefully accept our hospitality."

"Fuck."

The two sat back staring at each other in silence for a while until Hunter spoke up.

"Aren't you going to ask me why I ran away?"

"Would you tell me the truth if I did?"

"Maybe," Hunter replied with a sigh, the tears were beginning to well up in his eyes.

"Do you have a dollar?"

"A what?"

"A dollar. You know ï¿½ money."

"I know what a dollar is, asshole. Why do I need a dollar?"

"You need it so you can retain my services."

"Why?"

"If I am on retainer, anything you tell me will be held in the strictest of confidence. I won't be allowed to tell anyone what you say unless you give me the okay."

"I can tell you anything?"

"Yes."

"And you won't say a word?"

"Nope, nothing unless you tell me it's okay."

"My sneakers."

"What?"

"In my sneakers, I should have a buck in my sneaker."

Bobby fished out a crumpled dollar bill and handed it to Hunter. Hunter stared at it for a moment then handed it back to Bobby. Bobby pulled a sheet of paper and a pen from the desk and began to write.

"Hunter, what's your last name?"

"Novotny-Bruckner."

"Here, now sign," Bobby said as he handed the paper to Hunter.

"What am I signing?" Hunter asked as he suspiciously eyed the paper.

"It says that Robert Morrison, attorney-at-law is Hunter Novotny-Bruckner's lawyer. Now sign it and we're officially client and lawyer."

"Done," Hunter said signing his name and returning the contract back to Bobby.

"Okay, now tell me what the fuck in going on and convince me why I shouldn't call your parents who are probably going out of their minds by now."

Hunter gazed into Bobby's trusting eyes. As he opened his mouth to speak, the tears that had threatened to fall began to rain down. Bobby sat beside the boy and held on as Hunter began his tale. Bobby let the frightened boy have his cry and listened to the not unfamiliar story of Hunter's life before, during and after becoming a part of the Liberty Avenue family. And a part of Michael and Ben's lives. At the end of it, Hunter was exhausted, hungry, had to pee real bad and had used up a box of tissues. Bobby continued to hang on to the boy until he was all cried out.

"As your lawyer, I can do some research into schools that take kids with special needs or I can explore what home schooling entails or set you up with online courses. You won't get far without a high school diploma. As your friend, I suggest you go to the bathroom then come downstairs with me. You need food to help your injuries heal. John and Claire will want some sort of explanation and as a guest in their home you owe them that much. I'll stay with you each step of the way."

"You will?"

"Yes, I will." Mindful of Hunter's ribs, Bobby gave him a gentle hug of assurance.

"Okay, let's go. I really need to pee."


	6. Runaway Life

Bobby came down the stairs first, paving the way for the frightened and embarrassed boy. Breakfast had already come and gone but Claire fired up the stove to make a fresh batch of biscuits, scrambled eggs and ham. John started a new pot of coffee.

"Hunter will be down in a moment. Please don't bombard him with questions. He's hurting physically and he's emotionally distraught. And he's retained me as his lawyer so I will not tolerate him being harassed."

John and Claire gaped at Bobby in astonishment.

"Bobby, how could you?"

"John, it was the only way Hunter would feel safe enough to tell me what's going on. Now give him a chance to explain on his own terms."

John glared at his lover. Claire, momentarily put off by the nerve that Bobby had, sighed, then patted Bobby's shoulders.

"Bobby, honey, we'll follow your lead but I'd feel better if I could call Michael or Brian to let them know Hunter is with us."

"I realize that and believe me I feel the same way. Just give Hunter some time."

Hunter cleared his throat and entered the kitchen.

"Hi."

"Good morning, Hunter. How do you feel? Did you get some sleep?"

"I'm feeling a little better, thank you, Ms. Anderson."

"John, thank you for bringing me here, I really appreciate it. I, if I had to stay on the street one more night, I'm not sure what I was going to do."

"Hunter, dear, you can stay here as long as you wish. Dr. Adams wants to see you again next week to check your progress. Is that all right with you?"

"Um, yeah, I guess so."

"Have you washed up?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good, breakfast will be ready in a few moments. Take a seat at the table."

"You didn't have to go to any trouble."

"No trouble but you can't expect to heal without eating right."

"Hunter, are you up to explaining why you ran away?"

"I'm not sure, John."

"Hunter, we have to call your parents."

"John, please..." Hunter stood up ready to bolt.

"Hunter, sit down. John, I'm asking you again, do not harass my client," Bobby spoke out in such an emphatic tone that John was taken aback.

"Bobby..." John growled.

"John, please let me do my job. After Hunter eats we will discuss this calmly."

Claire placed a heaping plate of eggs and ham in front of Hunter and a glass of orange juice. Bobby helped himself to a large mug of coffee then sat next to Hunter. He stared into his coffee mug unwilling to look at John just yet. Bobby was hungry but he wasn't ready to eat. Hunter, on the other hand, scarfed down his breakfast. When Hunter finally came up for air, Bobby was beginning to relax and buttered a biscuit.

"Some more eggs, Hunter?"

"No thank you, Ms. Anderson. That was really good."

"Just help yourself if you want more."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Hunter, remember what we discussed. I think it's time you gave Claire and John your explanation," Bobby counseled Hunter.

Hunter took a sip of juice and closed his eyes for a moment. Placing the glass down, he placed one hand on the table and his other hand on Bobby's arm for support. Bobby put one hand over Hunter's and gave it a squeeze. Hunter recounted his feelings of dread, frustration and hopelessness.

"Can I go back to bed now, I'm feeling a little tired." Hunter's pain and his confession had exhausted him.

"Take some more Motrin and I'll take you back upstairs," Bobby offered.

"I can walk on my own," Hunter snapped back.

"I'm sure you can but going up stairs is a lot harder than coming down. Don't argue with your lawyer and let me help you. Why the hell did you retain me in the first place?" Bobby smiled taking the sting out of his admonishment.

"Okay, okay. Geesh, give a guy a dollar and he thinks he has the right to boss you around. Ugh." Hunter's flip remark was punctuated by his groan as he attempted to get up off the chair.

"Come on, kid. Back to bed and I want to take a look at your bandages. John?"

"I'll bring the first aid kit."

"Thank you, John." When Bobby finally looked at John, he saw John's soft smile and Bobby knew they were all right.

As Bobby settled Hunter in his room, Hunter gave his permission to call Michael.

"Bobby, can you call Michael for me? Tell him I'm sorry but I can't see them right now. And please, I don't want anyone to know where I am. I just can't do it anymore." Hunter started to whimper softly into his pillow.

"Shhh, it's okay. I'll take care of it and do my lawyer thing. Hunter, I promise, we'll work this out."

Bobby checked Hunter's bandages then tucked the boy in, brushing a stray lock of hair from Hunter's eyes. He waited until Hunter fell asleep then left to make the phone call.

Bobby left Hunter's room to make his call stopping first in the kitchen to pour himself a glass of juice. Due to the excitement of the past twenty-four hours Bobby hadn't been able to eat. He was beginning to feel the strain and his blood sugar was dipping dangerously low. Bobby found out during his days at Penn that if he didn't eat regularly he could easily pass out. If he could make it through the phone call he could relax and have a decent meal.

With a glass of juice in his hand Bobby passed the living room nodding to both John and Claire, indicating that he was going to John's study to make the call. Bobby could see the same wave of relief flash over each of their faces as Bobby passed them. Bobby entered the study and shut the door.

As Bobby flipped through their phone book he actually wished he was calling Brian instead of Michael. Somehow he knew Brian would keep a cooler head. He and Brian had connected during their time together on their trip. But as Hunter's lawyer, Bobby could only inform Michael and through him Ben, of Hunter's condition and whereabouts. It was Saturday so Bobby tried the comic book store first.

"Hello, comics."

"Michael? It's Bobby Morrison, John Anderson's partner."

"Bobby? I didn't think lawyers were into comics."

"This lawyer isn't but I have news about Hunter for you."

"Hunter?! Oh god, where is he? Is he okay? Can I come and get him?"

"Michael! Calm down. I need you to listen to me. Can you please sit down and listen for a minute?"

"Hold on, I was about to close up for lunch, let me lock the door."

Bobby heard Michael put the phone down and lock the comic book store door. He heard the noise of a chair scraping the floor and then Michael coming back to the phone.

"I'm back. Is Hunter okay?"

"He's fine, no not really. He was mugged. He's got a couple of cracked ribs and some scrapes but he'll be fine. We've had a doctor check him out but it's not his physical state I'm worried about, it's his emotional state I'm more concerned with."

"I can come and get him. I want to take him home."

"I know you do but you can't right now."

"I can't! What the fuck are you talking about? I'm his father; I can do what I want."

"No, Michael, you can't. I'm Hunter's lawyer, he's of the age of consent and I promised him the time to get his head together about this. Now if I have to I will file a restraining order against you but I won't if you promise me you'll give me the opportunity to get Hunter the help he needs to deal with everything."

"What the hell are you talking about? He needs to come home to where people love him and will take care of him, Ben and I miss him. We love him."

"I know you do and Hunter knows that too. But he's not ready to accept that love right now. Michael, let me do my job, I know how Hunter feels."

"Bobby, you're not..."

"No, I'm not; it's other things that I can't get into. Look I promise to call and give you progress reports. Just give Hunter some space. He's safe; he's not back on the streets."

"He didn't ï¿½ he wasn't turning tricks again?"

"No, but a couple of more days out there and he may not have had any choice. So you see that it's important that he feels safe here, that we won't betray him. Give him the time he needs."

"Fuck, this shits."

"I know. Please Michael, I promise, I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay. Is it okay for me to tell Ben?"

"Yes, but no one else. Not yet. If anyone asks, just say you've heard from him and he's fine but that's all you know."

"Okay, thanks, bye Bobby. You'll call, right?"

"I will, I promise. Goodbye."

Bobby hung up the phone and began to slump in his chair. He was feeling dizzy. A gentle rap on the door brought him out of it for the moment.

"Yes?"

"Baby, it's me."

"Come in."

"Everything okay in here...fuck, you look like shit. Food, you need to eat and right now. No arguments, no stalling. I made you lunch. Now let me help you to the kitchen before you fall down."

"Bossy bottom," Bobby managed to say as his lover practically carried him out to the kitchen and hovered until Bobby ate a sandwich, salad, glass of milk and several of Claire's oatmeal cookies.

When Bobby finished his meal, John whisked him away to their room and put him to bed. They cuddled until John heard Bobby's even breathing and John knew his lover was asleep. John covered the sleeping younger man with a blanket then left the room to check on Hunter who remained sleeping in the guest room. John joined his mother downstairs.

"How are they doing?"

"They're both asleep. Mom, how do we get ourselves into these things?"

"I don't know. Patience and Aidan, they were so accepting of me. They loved us so much, I guess they taught us both how to love and accept love. Even when we were all so broke, we were rich with love. I guess it's in our nature."

"I guess so. I saw something today in Bobby that I never knew existed. I mean, I knew how passionate Bobby is about the law but the way he's so protective of Hunter. I don't understand."

"Jackie, you've only known Bobby for about a year; you're still learning about each other. I know his parents; they're good people but a little cold at times. Maybe it's something in Bobby's past. I'm sure when Bobby's ready he'll tell you all about it."

"I suppose you're right. I know it's early but I think we better plan dinner now and for the next several weeks. I have a feeling our food budget is about to skyrocket."

"I do believe you are correct. And did I hear something about a dinner with Brian and Justin and Bobby's parents?"

"Shit, yeah. I almost forgot about that. We may have to pass on that."

"No, we don't. It's important to Bobby and to his family. Jackie, we can't all run away from life. I'll plan something nice for next weekend; you arrange things with Brian and Bobby."

"Okay, I will. And thank you, Mom. Do you know how much I love you and I thank god every day that I have a mother like you."

"You're a good boy, Jackie; we'll get through this together."

"We always do, Mom, we always do."


	7. Runaway Life

"Brian, your brother is on line one," Cynthia told her boss.

"My brother?" Brian frowned still often taken by surprise that he had a brother. Then he had a small shudder of fear. It wasn't like John to call him at work. "Put him on," Brian said quickly. "John? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Don't get your knickers in a knot," John laughed.

"I'll do whatever I fucking please with my knickers. Why are you calling me at work if nothing's the matter?"

John laughed again. "Easy, little bro', I have a favor to ask."

"How much is it going to cost me?"

"Cost you?" John asked puzzled at Brian's reaction.

"Sorry, but you are part of my family and when they want a favor from me it usually costs me ï¿½ dearly."

"I come from the other side of your family," John joked only too familiar with some of the things Brian had been hit up for by members of his family, at least according to what Justin had told him. "I don't want or need your money."

"Right," Brian said with a chuckle. "I must have mistaken you for a Kinney. You're an Anderson, right?"

"You got it. Now shut up and listen for a minute," John demanded.

"Yes, big brother," Brian said with his best imitation of contrite.

"Bobby's going through a rough patch with his family."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Brian replied wondering what could be going on between them.

"They seem to think he'll get over being gay if he eats the right food or something. They think he's throwing his life away ï¿½ especially being with me."

"Then they don't know fuck all! You and Bobby are perfect together. Can't they see he's happy?"

"They don't want to see that. I went to dinner with them the other night. It's the first time we've done that."

"How did it go?" Brian asked. He had a meeting with a client in fifteen minutes. Why did family shit always take so long? He wished John would get to the point.

"They made an effort and I made an effort, and all in all it wasn't too bad. I used you as an example of how Bobby could still have a family. I showed them that picture of you and Justin and Gus."

"You did?"

"Yeah, I hope that was all right."

"I, guess so. Shit, I never thought of myself as the poster boy for anything, let alone for gay families. Poster boy for fucking maybeï¿½"

"Anyway," John said drawing Brian back into the conversation since his mind seemed to have wandered. "We'd like you and Justin to meet the Morrisons. Could you come for dinner Saturday night ï¿½ here at the farm?"

"I'm not a great one for dinner parties," Brian admitted.

"I've seen you at the family gatherings. You'll be fine. I want them to see a committed couple who have a good life and a family."

"I don't know, John. I'm liable to shoot my mouth off and make matters worse."

"I have faith in you, and Justin will be there to keep you in line."

"Of course," Brian chuckled. People always thought Justin could keep him in line, but that only worked when Brian wanted it to.

"Let me talk to the blond brat and I'll get back to you."

"Okay, but I'd really appreciate this, Brian."

"I'll let you know."

Brian hung up the receiver. He hated formal dinner parties. He always managed to piss somebody off, especially after he got sick of making small talk. John didn't know what he was asking, or what he might be getting himself into.

Looking at his watch, Brian decided he could make a quick call to Justin. He was about to dial when another thought struck him. He dialed a different number. All this talk about family must have affected his brain.

"Comics," the familiar voice answered.

"Hey, Mikey."

"Brian," Michael smiled at the sound of his friend's voice. "What's up?"

"I just wondered if you had heard anything from Hunter."

"I, um, no."

"You were always a pathetic liar. What's going on?"

"I, I have heard from him. He's okay."

"That's good. Where is he?"

"He wouldn't say," Michael lied. "He's not ready to come home yet, but he's all right."

"Well, that's something, I guess."

"Yeah, at least he's safe."

Brian frowned. He wondered how Michael could call a runaway out on the streets safe. He glanced at his watch. "I have to go, Mikey. Glad you heard from him."

"Yeah, me too," Michael said and hung up.

 

"Hunter," Claire said as the boy came down the stairs. "You look better today. More color in your face."

"You mean to go with the black and blue already there," Hunter replied.

"The bruises are fading. You'll be good as new before long."

"Yeah, right," Hunter said sarcastically. "I'll never be good as new."

Claire frowned. She was trying to cheer him up but she had no frame of reference about how to do that with someone who had HIV. Hunter had been there for a few days now and he was getting stronger physically, but his emotional state didn't seem to be improving.

"I was just going to make a batch of cookies. Do you want to help me?"

Hunter stared at her and decided to lay on the test. "Aren't you afraid I'll infect them and you'll all get AIDS?"

"If I was afraid of that, I'd never have asked you to help in the first place," Claire replied annoyed at the boy's tone. "Go outside and play with Beau if you don't want to help me." She turned back to arranging her cookie supplies on the counter.

"I, I'm sorry," Hunter said realizing how rude he was being to this woman who had been feeding him the best meals he'd ever had. "What can I do?"

Claire smiled to herself. She had always found a little blunt honesty opened people's eyes. It had worked once again. "Reach that big bowl on the top shelf for me. And be careful, it's heavy. I think we'll make a double batch." She smiled at Hunter who couldn't help but smile back.

Hunter set the bowl on the counter as Claire turned the oven on. "What else can I do?" Hunter asked.

"Put that softened butter in the bowl and measure out two cups of sugar." Hunter did as he was told. "Are you ready for your first lesson in creaming?"

Hunter almost choked on his own spit at that comment. "What, what do you mean?"

"We're going to cream the sugar and butter together. What did you think I meant?"

"Um, nothing. I'm ready."

An hour later the two sat at the kitchen table eating cookies warm from the oven. Hunter thought they were just about the best thing he had ever tasted in his whole life, and he now had a whole new understanding of the concept of creaming.

 

"Brian? Do I look okay?"

"More than okay, good enough to eat," Brian said with a licentious grin.

"Stop that. I mean, do I look nice enough to meet Bobby's family?"

"Yes, Justin, you look very nice. With not a blatantly homoerotic hair out of place. What about me?"

"Gorgeous as ever."

"Good. Maybe I can charm Mrs. Morrison."

"Not a good idea. Brian, I wonder why we're staying here at the cottage and not the main house."

"Claire's probably fed up with all the noise you make when we're fucking. John and Bobby fuck quietly."

"Asshole. Get it all out of your system now. I want you on your best behavior when we meet Bobby's parents."

"Yes, dear. John said Bobby's sister is going to be there. Maybe I can work the old charm on her. Justin, why are you laughing?"

"Cause you said old."

"Justin, can it! You're not too old to spank."

"Never happen."

"Oh yeah? Why?"

"Because I may like it too much then we'll never leave this cottage, then John and Bobby will get angry at us for ruining their dinner, then I'll get angry cause I won't get any of Claire's cookies that I know she baked and then you won't get laid."

"Shit!"

"So let's go and if you behave yourself, my ass will be yours later tonight and you can have it any way you want."

"I'm behaving, I'm behaving!"

Instead of walking through the woods, Brian and Justin took the Cherokee for the short drive to the main house. They both were dressed casually yet with that touch of elegance that never eluded Brian or Justin when Brian picked out Justin's clothes. Brian looked like the successful man he was but without airs. Justin had grown up with the country club set and knew how to conduct himself. They both wanted John, Bobby and Claire to be proud of them.

"Ready, Sunshine?" Justin smiled and nodded. Only a few minutes fashionably late, they knocked on the door then let themselves in.

"There you are!" Claire exclaimed as Brian and Justin walked into the living room. John snuck a peek at his watch and winked at his brother in appreciation. Bobby let out the breath he was holding when he saw what Brian and Justin were wearing, fearing that they would either look too gay or too snobby. Rachel gasped at the sight of the two deliciously gorgeous men and Mrs. Morrison smiled. Only Dr. Morrison remained reserved, preferring to pass judgment later.

"Come in and meet everyone. We have some time before dinner." Claire ushered them in and John stuck a beer in Brian's hand but not before giving Brian a look of pleading.

"Only one," Brian whispered and John nodded. Introductions were made all around and Brian made it a point to give Dr. Morrison one of his best ad exec firm handshakes. Brian had no intention of fostering any homophobic stereotypes.

John and George were talking sports while Mrs. Morrison insisted on helping Claire in the kitchen. Before Justin could offer his assistance, Rachel, her brother's closest ally in her family, asked Justin to show her the albums that Justin had put together chronicling their recent journey. Justin beamed one of his best as Brian rolled his eyes.

"Don't get him started, Rachel, we may never eat," Brian quipped. Justin gently smacked Brian's arm then plopped down beside Rachel on the couch and started explaining about the hundreds of pictures they had taken and about their trip. Justin's genuine enthusiasm was contagious. Even Dr. Morrison couldn't help but smile when they came to the part about their walk through the jungle and Brian's battle with the dreaded dart frog. Brian maintained his composure and dignity and was duly rewarded by John with another beer. John knew Brian could handle it.

Dinner was scrumptious and the conversation ran the gambit between local politics, Bobby's law firm and Justin's artwork. It was all going wonderfully well until dessert. Brian was passing the cream to Justin, when Justin's hand went into spasm. A shock of pain ran up Justin's arm and he dropped the creamer, spilling its contents onto Claire's tablecloth.

"I'm sorry," Justin cried out. Without thinking Brian immediately grabbed Justin's hand and began to massage away the cramp as he did so many times in the past. He drew the boy closer, protecting him from unseen curious eyes and softly cooed words of comfort into Justin's ear.

"It's bad, Brian," Justin whimpered softly.

"I know, you've been working too hard. It's okay, it's almost over. Do you want to take something?"

"No."

Claire and John cleaned up the spill. Mrs. Morrison remained silent, slightly embarrassed about the obvious loving touch Brian had. Dr. Morrison couldn't help but inquire.

"A muscle spasm?" the doctor asked. Justin nodded. "Do you get them often?"

"Only when I overuse my hand. I've been working on an important project. I guess I overdid it today."

"You're very young to experience such spasms. Is this the result of a previous injury?" Justin nodded again and buried his head into Brian's shoulder.

"Dad, maybe you should drop it," Bobby stated, unsure of how Brian's protective nature would react to his father's questions.

"It's okay, Bobby," Brian spoke up, then whispered something into Justin's ear and Justin nodded. Brian encircled Justin in his arms and continued to massage Justin's hand.

"Claire, I think we made need some more of your coffee and I wouldn't mind a cookie or two," Brian requested.

"Of course, dear."

As Claire refilled every one's cup, Brian gave the Morrison's a lesson in growing up gay in the big city. Without bias or cursing, Brian told them of how a brave young man fought his way back from a coma to become a politically active, productive citizen and art student in one of Pittsburgh's finest art schools. He spoke of how the love that Justin had in his heart helped Brian to become a better father to Gus and how Justin's tenacity led the way to finding the Andersons. And in turn the paintings. Brian told them about Rage, about the Vic Grassi home, about Stockwell and about Jason Kemp. He spoke about the prom, about the night that Justin could never remember and Brian could never forget. He spoke about Joan and how she tried to destroy their family and how Craig disowned his son. And he spoke about the love and respect he had for the little blond in his arms and that no one would ever hurt Justin again as long as Brian Kinney lived and breathed.

Justin looked up into Brian's eyes and gently thumbed away the lone tear that was slipping down Brian's face. Justin's smile lit up the room and Brian sighed one of his queenly best. Brian swept the hair back from Justin's forehead revealing the scars that Justin proudly bore. He looked up to see Dr. Morrison nod.

"Justin, may I examine your hand?" Justin held out his hand for Dr. Morrison.

"The spasm seems to have abated. Must be all the care your partner has rendered. I suggest you give your hand a rest this weekend. I'll even write you a note for your professors if you need it for Monday." Bobby's father smiled at Brian and Justin, then ruffled the blond's hair.

"Claire, your dinner was wonderful and if you don't mind I'd love another cup of your coffee, perhaps decaf this time if you have it, and I'd love to see more of your album, Justin. Tell me more about those frogs."


	8. Runaway Life

"Goodnight! We must do this again."

"Bobby, I have a conference in Harrisburg later this week, maybe we can meet for lunch."

"I'd love that, Dad."

"Goodnight."

Claire shut the door and breathed a sigh of relief. Aside from Justin's mishap, the dinner went surprisingly well. Brian's honesty coupled with his fierce love and protectiveness turned the tide between father and son. Claire felt for sure that Bobby and his family would become close. Now, if they could only figure out what to do about their young guest who'd been hiding in the guest room all night.

"Claire, would you like some help cleaning up?" Justin asked.

"Yes, I would but not from you, young man. You heard Dr. Morrison, rest your hand. Besides do you really think Brian would let you lift a finger?"

"Fat chance, little boy. Now sit and that's an order. I can help Claire."

Justin stuck his tongue out at Brian but sat on the couch as told. He was secretly beaming on the inside. He knew he was loved by the big oaf. With everyone helping, Claire's home was put in order very quickly. John could see a change in Bobby. He felt vindicated in inviting Brian and Justin to dinner. The love and respect they had for one another was so obvious that anyone could see it and could not help but to respond favorably to it. It was a very good evening.

"Sunshine, after I take a wicked whiz, me and your ass have things to do," Brian shouted out without any shame as he ascended the stairs. He chuckled as he heard John, Bobby and Justin yell out with a "TMI, Brian."

On his way out of the bathroom Brian thought he heard some noise emanating from the guest room.

"Hello?" Brian called out as he opened the guest room door.

"Shit!" Hunter cried out.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I, uh."

"Shut up and come with me." Brian grabbed Hunter by the collar and dragged the helpless boy down the stairs.

"Now look who I found lurking upstairs. Someone care to explain?" Brian spat out as he pushed Hunter into a chair.

"Ow, watch it, asshole."

"You little shit. Do you know that Michael and Ben are out of their minds right now? Not to mention, Debbie has been combing all the hustler bars looking for you."

"Fuck."

"You can say that again. Now I want to know why you're here and why nobody told me." Brian stood with hands on hips scanning John and Claire's faces.

"Brian."

"What?" Brian practically shouted at Bobby.

"Brian, if you calm down and if I have permission from my client, I will tell what's happened."

"Calm down, permission, client! What the fuck are you talking about?" Brian's voice arced about an octave higher with his frustration.

"Brian, give Bobby a chance to explain," Justin said calmly. Justin held out his hand. Brian could see it was still shaking either from a residual spasm or nervousness. Brian took Justin's hand and sat next to Justin, rubbing the hand to make the spasm go away and in effect calming himself too. Bobby took a chair and placed it in front of the partners. He sat and then asked Hunter for permission to answer Brian's questions. Hunter nodded.

"Brian, about a week ago we found Hunter in Harrisburg. He was beaten, hungry and dehydrated. He has cracked ribs and several bruises which thankfully are healing. Doc Adams, the same doctor who treated your nephews last year treated Hunter and we're going back to him for follow up care. I've been in touch with Michael; he knows Hunter is safe but that's all he knows. Hunter is over seventeen; he doesn't have to tell them anything."

"But he's just a kid." Brian gazed at the miserably sad looking boy.

"Brian, I was seventeen when we met."

"Justin that was different, you're different."

"Yeah, you're right and Hunter was on the streets long before I knew what that meant. Now listen to what Bobby has to say." Brian huffed but turned back to listen to Bobby.

"Hunter has retained me as his attorney. I've advised him to seek professional counseling when he's physically strong enough. Which by all accounts is fairly soon. I've spoken with Bill and he will be paying Hunter a visit in a day or two."

"What makes you think he'll still be here in a day or two?"

"Hunter has assured me that he'll stay. Brian, Hunter wants this. He's tired of feeling lonely and scared. He feels like no one understands and he's been having trouble at school." Brian nodded, Michael had told him.

"But Ben..."

"That's Ben, and he has his own ways of coping. Hunter is only a boy. He needs to be here, where there's no outside pressure, no other expectations other than being polite and cleaning up after himself. So far he's been doing that."

"And you've been in touch with Michael."

"Yes."

"And it's okay with him. I know, that has nothing to do with it. If it's not breaching client lawyer confidentiality, I'd like to be kept informed as well. Maybe visit if I may."

"Sure, but you know the rules of the Farm. No interference unless approved by Bill."

"Yeah, I remember. Come here, you little shit." Hunter eased himself out of the chair; he was still healing. His ribs were hurting less and less each day. Hunter sat next to Brian. Brian drew the boy into a gentle hug.

"Listen to me, I'll keep an eye on Mikey and the professor for you and try to keep Debbie out of the hustler bars before Carl has her arrested. You do what Bill tells you. He did a lot for us; he's a very wise man. Okay?" Brian felt Hunter nod in his arms and sniffle.

"No snotting on my designer shirt." Brian kissed Hunter's forehead. Then smacked him on the cheek like Debbie. "Behave yourself or I'll kick your ass."

"Only if you can catch me."

"Try me, kid. I caught Justin, didn't I?"

"That's because blondie wanted to get caught."

"Teenagers," Justin grumbled.

"Come on, Sunshine. I need my beauty sleep." Brian and Justin said their goodnights. Just before they left, Claire had another invitation.

"Brian, I know how you like to sleep in on Sunday so why don't you two come for brunch tomorrow, at let's say, eleven. That's not too early." Brian smiled and nodded to Claire. Brian and Justin left the farmhouse.

 

"Brian, oh Brian," a soft seductive voice cooed into the blackness.

"Huh," Brian said turning onto his back and refusing to open his eyes. He had enjoyed his sleep and he didn't want it to be over.

"Brian," Justin whispered against his ear. Brian refused to respond. He just wanted a few more minutes. He snuggled down as he felt something take hold of his morning wood and slide up and down, up and down.

Brian groaned loudly. "That's not fair," Brian mumbled. "Just a few more minutes."

"It's ten o'clock. We need to get up if we're going to brunch at eleven."

"I'm already up, thanks to you," Brian said opening one eye and peering out at his partner.

"Didn't you get enough last night?" Brian raised an eyebrow. "I know, I know," Justin conceded.

"We didn't stop until ï¿½"

"It was after four, but that still means you've had six hours of sleepï¿½" Justin let his voice trail off. "Maybe you can't keep up with me anymore. Maybe you're getting too old."

Brian opened both eyes and glared at Justin. With one fluid motion he flipped his partner over and had his stiff dick pressing against the well used pucker from the night before. Justin grunted at this rough treatment but then he grabbed Brian around the neck pulling his lover down for a heated kiss.

"You up for another one?" Brian asked when the kiss ended.

"Always."

"Insatiable little twat," Brian grumbled as he sheathed his dick.

"You know you're the luckiest man on the face of the Earth to have me," Justin smirked as Brian pressed in. He scrunched up his face until he could take all of Brian. When he felt Brian fully inside he grabbed Brian for another kiss wanting them to stay joined and quiet for a minute or two.

"Luckiest, huh?" Brian said when he ended the kiss.

"Yup."

"What makes you so sure of that?"

"Who else would put up with all your idiosyncrasies and still fuck the shit out of you at every opportunity?"

"Well," Brian said thoughtfully, "I think it's you who is the luckiest man alive, because I fuck you into oblivion every night, and I don't even mention your idiosyncrasies."

"What do you mean?" Justin asked. "I don't have any idiosyncrasies."

Brian snorted as he began to thrust, not able to put it off any longer. He felt Justin respond in kind and he knew he truly was the luckiest man alive, lucky that he had found his beautiful lover, lucky that the kid put up with everything that he had laid on him, lucky that Justin was still alive.

"What idiosyncrasies?" Justin gasped as Brian pounded into him.

"Can we talk about this later?" Brian said as he felt the first tinglings of orgasm.

"I won't forget," Justin warned looking into the hazel eyes.

"I know. That's one of your idiosyncrasies."

Justin opened his mouth to make a reply, but Brian captured it with his lips and began thrusting in earnest. As their bodies responded to the sensations coursing through them, there was no more talking. Brian leaned on his elbows as Justin wrapped his legs around Brian's torso. The thrust and counter-thrust finally swept them away to a star-filled orgasm that left them both spent and gasping.

Finally Brian rolled away and disposed of the condom. He thought about getting up to retrieve a towel to clean them up, but they could do that in the shower in a minute or two. He lay staring at the ceiling, his fingers still interlaced with Justin's.

"So, what idiosyncrasies?" Justin asked.

Brian groaned. "See, that is a very annoying habit."

"I just want to know," Justin countered.

"Okay," Brian said. "You're messy."

"Messy! This from the master of anal retentiveness."

"I thought you liked my retention of your anus."

"I do," Justin giggled leaning over and kissing Brian's cheek. "What else?"

"Nothing else, you're puuurrrrfect!"

"About time you realized it."

"Shit, we need to get a move on or Claire will skin us alive," Brian said hopping up.

"Let's shower together. It will be faster."

"Not if you swish that ass at me, it won't," Brian said as Justin made his way to the bathroom.

"I'll try to keep my swishing to a minimum," Justin replied giving Brian a very suggestive glance over his shoulder.

"Too late!" Brian yelled as he ran to join Justin in the shower.

When they finally appeared at the farmhouse for brunch they were over half an hour late. They both had well fucked looks on their faces and everyone present couldn't help but notice.

"Nice of you to join us, little bro'," John said with a grin.

"They just got finished fucking," Hunter said knowingly.

"So what?" Brian retorted. "You're all just jealous."

"Brian, please contain yourself," Claire said as she set everything out on the table.

"Did you wait for us?" Justin asked with a blush.

"Not exactly," Claire replied as she went to the kitchen to bring in the coffee pot.

"We've learned from experience to give you two at least a half hour after the appointed time," Bobby said.

"People could starve to death while you two fucked," Hunter felt compelled to add.

"What took you so long?" John asked thinking there was probably more to the story than just fucking.

"We were discussing idiosyncrasies," Brian said by way of explanation.

"Whose?" Hunter asked.

"Hey, I don't have idiosyncrasies," Justin retorted. He didn't believe any of what Brian had listed really fell into that category.

It was Hunter's turn to snort derisively.

"I don't, do I?"

"No, you're perfect," Hunter replied sarcastically.

"That's what Brian told me earlier," Justin said with a big grin.

"Yeah, and that's what makes you even more annoying," Hunter said gnawing on a strip of bacon.

Justin stuck his tongue out at the boy as Brian pulled him into the chair next to him.

"Let Hunter eat. He's still recovering," Brian said gently taking Justin's bad hand into his. "How does it feel this morning?"

"Better, but still a little weak," Justin said as the rest of them evaporated into the ether as he looked into Brian's eyes.

Brian nodded. "If you want to drive home, I'll massage it while you drive," Brian said gently.

"In spite of my idiosyncrasies?" Justin asked with a full heart and eyes that were starting to fill with tears.

"It's because of all your little idiosyncrasies that I love so much."

"Awwww," the adults around the table said looking at the lovers and the tenderness that passed between them.

"I think I'm going to puke," Hunter said throwing his bacon back onto the plate.


	9. Runaway Life

Hunter, how did your session with Bill go today?"

"Okay, I guess."

"Would you like some lunch?"

"No, thank you. They fed me over at the Farm."

"Well, we have hours before dinner, so help yourself to anything you want."

"Thank you, Ms. Anderson. I think I'll go upstairs to my room. I'm a little tired."

"You do that, Hunter. I'll call you when dinner's ready. Both John and Bobby should be home around six."

Hunter turned to go up the stairs then turned back to give Claire a peck on the cheek. Silently he went up to his room.

"Bobby Morrison."

"Bobby, it's Claire."

"Everything okay?"

"I think so. Hunter just came back from his counseling. I don't think it went very well. He went right up to his room. Bobby, do you think you'll be home on time?"

"I just finished with my last appointment for today. I can leave early."

"Bobby, you just started, don't jeopardize your position."

"Claire, I put in a lot of extra hours each week. One early day won't kill me. I'll be home within the hour."

"If you're sure."

"I'm sure. See you soon."

 

"He still upstairs?"

"Yes. I haven't heard a peep from him all afternoon. Bobby, I realize John hasn't been a teenager for quite some time but I do remember the noise. Loud music, loud TV, just plain loud. Hunter is the most quiet boy I've ever met. That can't be a good sign."

"No, Claire, it's not. I'll talk to him."

Bobby grabbed a couple of apples from the kitchen counter then went to his room. Changing into some sweats, he then brought the apples to the guest room, gently rapping on the door.

"Come in."

"Hi, Hunter."

"Hi."

"How'd it go today with Bill?"

"Okay."

"Just okay?"

"You're still my lawyer, right?"

"Yes. I can't repeat anything you tell me."

"Bobby, I don't think this is working. I mean Bill is really nice and I know he wants to help but I don't feel any different."

"Hunter, it's been only two days. Here, have an apple."

"Why does everyone want to feed me?"

"First of all you're still recovering and you know as well as I do that you need regular meals to stay healthy."

"What difference will it make? I'm going to die from AIDS anyway."

"The difference is that there are medical breakthroughs every day. You don't know what you'll die from. You're young; you'll live a long time."

"What do you care? You're perfect. You're beautiful, smart, you've got a great partner. I have nothing. You know nothing."

"Hunter, our contract, it works both ways."

"What the fuck do you mean?"

"If I tell you something, a secret, you can't tell anyone either."

"What kind of secret could you possibly have?"

"The kind that almost got me killed."

"Huh?"

"Do you think you cornered the market on stupidity? You know how the Farm got started, right?"

"Yeah, I heard."

"And Steve's son, you know about him?"

"I heard something about it."

"I knew Steve's son. We were friends in high school although he was two years older than me. He let me hang around 'cause I could play baseball. I was too small for football but I could pitch. He was a jock and he also liked to take risks. I wasn't out and I was scared of the feelings I had when I was with some of the other guys. You know what that's like?"

"Tell me about it."

"So, I figured if I hung out with the jocks and bullies I'd get tough too. But my parents were really strict. I had a curfew and there'd be hell to pay if I didn't get home on time. Steve's son, his name was Jimmy, he knew about the curfew. I thought he'd make fun of me but he didn't. He kind of treated me like a younger brother. One night, Jimmy picked me up in Steve's old pickup truck. There was a bunch of us stuffed in the truck. I knew something was up but the guys didn't say anything to me. At ten Jimmy dropped me off at home. I had a bad feeling but I didn't know what to do about it. I was only fourteen, what did I know. That was the last time I saw him. I couldn't even go to his funeral."

"Funeral?"

"Yeah. I didn't know it but Jimmy took his father's shotgun. They drove onto the interstate for a while then pulled off at a truck stop. They intended to rob the place except they found a truck stop that was run by a retired state trooper. The minute Jimmy pulled out the shotgun, the owner fired his service revolver. Jimmy was dead by the time he hit the floor. The other kids ran. I heard that it was the first time the ex-cop ever had to fire his weapon. Twenty years on the job, he never had to pull out his gun. He apologized to Steve during the investigation. Hunter, it could have been me. I don't think Steve knows I was with Jimmy that night. It still haunts me. I can still see Jimmy's face when he dropped me off that night. Laughing, telling me he'd see me on the ball field."

"What did you do? You must have gotten over it."

"Eventually, but I became depressed, no one knew why. The school brought in counselors especially for the baseball team. I met Bill; he was one of the counselors. He saved my life. I remember one night going into my father's office. He had a supply of sample pills. I had a whole bunch of stuff in my hand; I was ready to die."

"What stopped you?"

"A picture on the wall of me and my sister. We were on vacation and my mom took a picture of us. My dad had it framed and hung it up. I put the pills back and the next day spoke with Bill. He's the only one who knows the truth."

"Not even John?"

"No, no one except for you and Bill."

"Fuck."

"Yeah. It won't happen over night. It took weeks before I could feel anything; I was numb for a long time. The point is, Hunter, that you have to try. I love my family. I couldn't do that to them. You love Michael and Ben and the rest of the family. For your sake and theirs, give it a try. I can speak with Bill; maybe go with you to some sessions. I still go to him on occasion."

"I'll try."

"Good. Now let's eat these apples then get some air. It won't be dark for some time yet. I think I still remember how to throw a ball. That is, if you think I'm not too old to hang out with you."

"Old? Shit, you look younger than Justin."

"Thanks, I think. Come on; let's get out of this room."

 

Hunter walked into Bill's office the next day. The thoughts of what Bobby had told him had rattled around in his brain all night. He still didn't feel much better but somehow his attitude had changed. Maybe it was the knowledge that not everybody else had a perfect life either. It was good to know that people had come through hardships and still had been able to make something of themselves. It gave him a glimmer, just a faint glimmer of hope.

"Hey, Hunter, have a seat," Bill said,

"Um, would you mind if we walked down by the stream and sat on the big rock, instead of talking in here? It's a perfect day."

"Perfect, huh?"

"Well, pretty close," Hunter chuckled.

Bill looked at the boy. He had never made a request for anything, and he most definitely had not paid any attention to the weather. He wondered what had changed. "Sure, let's go."

They walked through the mostly deserted farm. Steve and another guy still worked there after all the kids went back to school. There were crops to bring in and animals to tend to. They proceeded through the trees to the edge of the stream. They crossed over the narrow part and sat down on the big rock. They both stared into the slow moving water as it drifted past.

Bill raised his face to the sun. "You were right. This is a perfect day."

"Could I ask you something?" Hunter said.

"Of course."

"And you'll answer me truthfully?"

"I'll do my best," Bill replied wondering what kind of earth shattering question Hunter was about to ask.

"Did you ever think about killing yourself?"

"Killing myself? Wow, why don't you start with a big question?"

"You said you'd answer."

"The answer is yes, but I don't think I ever seriously meant to do it. However, I have certainly contemplated it from time to time. I think most people have when things are tough for them." Bill watched Hunter's reaction and waited for him to say something. When he didn't say a word just stared into the water, Bill asked, "Is that what you're thinking?"

"I, I was yesterday."

"But not today?"

"No, not so much. I felt yesterday like we were not getting anywhere. That all this talking was a fucking waste of time."

"And today it's not?" Bill asked with a smile.

"The jury's still out on that one."

"What happened in between then and now?"

"I had a talk with Bobby last night. We threw a ball around and, it was nice. Normal." Hunter looked at Bill waiting for some kind of validation.

"Is that what you want, a normal life?"

Hunter nodded, tears welling up. "But I can never fucking have it! Not with HIV. Nobody wants to be around me, nobody will ever love me, and I'll die alone."

Bill could feel the sadness and despair that emanated from the boy. "Hunter," Bill said and waited until Hunter looked at him. "I'm not going to tell you those things won't happen. I can't predict the future. But I do know that if you give up then that's probably what the future will hold. If you choose to fight and try and accomplish, then who knows where that will take you?" Bill waited to see if Hunter said anything in reply. When nothing was forthcoming, Bill decided to take a different tack. "Have you ever skipped stones?"

"Skipped stones? You mean like jumping from one to another?" Hunter asked with a frown. He didn't know what the hell Bill was talking about.

"No, nothing like that." Bill looked around and reached to down to find a pebble beside the big rock. "Watch." With a sideways thrust of his arm the stone went skimming through the water popping out four times before it disappeared for good.

"Neat," Hunter said suddenly interested.

"Want me to teach you how to do that?"

"It looks easy enough," Hunter observed as Bill handed him a stone. He tried to throw it just like Bill had but it disappeared below the water never to be seen again. "Hey, you gave me a bum stone," Hunter protested.

Bill laughed. "Yeah, I was out here last night till midnight finding the one that wouldn't work."

"So what did I do wrong?" Hunter asked.

"Hold the stone in your fingers like this," Bill said showing the boy and then positioning Hunter's fingers. "You want to keep the throw low, almost parallel to the water surface." Bill demonstrated once again getting three skips out of this stone. "Give it a try."

Hunter threw his stone which again hit the water and disappeared. "I can't do it," Hunter said with a tone that said he was ready to give up.

"Sure you can," Bill replied. "Don't throw it so hard."

Hunter reluctantly tried again with the same result. "I can't fucking do it!"

"Yes, you can. Do you think I did it on the first try?"

"Didn't you?"

Bill shook his head. "Many, many tries later, I finally got it."

Hunter picked up a handful of stones and started throwing them into the water as Bill adjusted his arm position or how he was holding the stone. Hunter was on his second handful of pebbles and about ready to quit when the stone bounced across the water three times. "I did it!" Hunter yelled in triumph.

"That you did. Now do you remember how you did it?"

Hunter frowned. "Fuck no!"

Bill laughed. "You were about ready to give up so you probably relaxed enough to get it to work. Try again."

Hunter threw a couple more which immediately sank. Then one hopped over the surface of the water. Hunter yelled triumphantly and immediately threw another one which did the same. He kept throwing them until he had a rhythm where every stone would skip.

"I did it!"

"You certainly did. Want to come back tomorrow and practise some more?"

"Sure," Hunter smiled.

"Let's go get some lunch."

"Is it that time already?" Hunter asked looking up at the sun which was overhead. "How long have we been out here?"

"A couple of hours."

"Shit! It just seemed like a few minutes."

"When you are learning something and developing a skill, time flies."

"Yeah," Hunter had to admit. "But it's a pretty fucking useless skill."

"A skill nonetheless," Bill averred. "See what persistence and practice can accomplish."

"I guess."

"Let's go eat," Bill said. "All this training made me hungry."

"Me too," Hunter had to admit. As they walked back to the farm, Hunter had something new to think about. Maybe he had been looking at his life in the wrong way.


	10. Runaway Life

"Sorry I'm late, Dad. Last minute client."

"I understand. Don't worry, I have a long break before our next topic and the presenter won't mind if we're delayed."

"Oh? Who's the presenter?"

"Me." Father and son shared a laugh as they perused their menus and ordered their lunch.

"Thank you for suggesting this, Dad. We should do this more often."

"Yes, we should. But I suspect as your career takes off you won't have the time."

"Dad, I plan on making the time. I already decided that a long time ago and made that a stipulation of my employment."

"That took a lot of nerve. And your firm went for it?"

"Well, it helped to come into the firm with two great accounts."

"Two? I know you had the Farm, what's the second?"

"Kinnetik, the advertising agency owned by Brian Kinney. He's rather a vocal task master and certainly a force to be reckoned with. He also carries a lot of political and economic weight in his part of Pittsburgh. There are some other businesses my firm is interested in. Brian has an influence that can't be ignored."

"He sounds like a formidable man. But are you sure his influences are safe and legal?"

"What do you mean?"

"That young man he has as a partner. He looks like a mere child."

"Dad, looks can be deceiving. John is always telling me that I look twelve." Dr. Morrison chuckled at Bobby's admission.

"In this I am in agreement, Robert, you do look like you're twelve."

"Gee, thanks, Dad." There was a lull in the conversation as the waiter brought their salads and the Morrison men began their meal.

"Robert... Bobby, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What are you doing with John Anderson? He's a good man, I'll grant you that. He has a wonderful reputation, he's polite and loyal to his mother but he's so much older than you not too mention how tall he is. I'm afraid you'll get hurt."

"Dad, what are you talking about? First off, John is only seven years older than me. You are ten years older than Mom. And Grandma was fifteen years older than Grandpa. That didn't stop them from having six children. As for him being taller than me, what does that have to do with anything? You're taller than Mom and Rachel's taller than me. Come to think about it, practically everyone's taller than me. Justin and I are about the same height. Brian and John are the same height. Believe me Dad, when I tell you height has nothing to do with anything."

"I'm just concerned with your well-being."

"I know you are but...wait a minute. You think that John is, that I'm a... Dad, what do you know about gay sex?"

"Bobby, I'm a doctor. I understand the mechanics."

"Mechanics is one thing, personal preference is another. Do you understand the terms 'top' and 'bottom' when it relates to gay sex?"

"Yes."

"In Brian and Justin's relationship, 99% of the time Brian is the top. Although Justin has a way of changing that percentage. In my relationship with John, I'm the top."

"You?"

"Yes. That surprises you?"

"Yes, it does."

"That's because you're letting your eyes make assumptions for your brain. It's not always obvious. When John and I met he had never had a homosexual experience, not even an experiment as a boy. I was his first and hopefully I will be his last. When John was learning what it's like to be with a man, I gave him a choice. I'm a top but I'm a versatile man. John chose to be the bottom. We complete each other, Dad. We love each other. He wants to marry me one day and have kids."

"Kids? A few weeks ago I would have never thought it possible but John showed me a picture of Gus. He's a beautiful little boy."

"Yes, he is. We built a treehouse for him. He's a sweet little boy and lucky too. He has two Moms and two Dads and a whole lot of people who love him."

"And I imagine with Brian Kinney as a father, he's a bit spoiled."

"Surprisingly enough, he's not spoiled and Justin is a good influence. On both of them."

"Bobby, the story Brian told about the bashing, I remembered reading about it in the newspaper; that was awful. What that poor boy went through and his family. If that had been you..."

"Dad, it won't happen."

"Bobby, in high school, something did happen. We never talked about it."

"And we won't, not now. But I promise, we will. Dad, you may not have to rush to go back but my boss is not as understanding. This has been great, Dad. I'd like to do this again or dinner. Dad, I'd like to be a real family again, you know?"

"Yes Bobby, I do know and I'd like that too. We've grown too distant lately and I suppose I'm largely responsible for that."

"Dad, I let it happen too but I've learned a lot this last year about family and how important it is. We can change things." Father and son shared a hug before parting.

"Bobby, if I never said it before, I'm saying it now. I'm very proud of you, both your mother and I are very proud of you and we love you."

"I love you too, Dad. We'll do this again soon. I promise and this lawyer keeps his word."

"I'll hold you to that contract, son."

Father and son went back to work.

 

Hunter came through the door of the farmhouse as Claire was making some biscuits for dinner.

"You're late," she said but smiled at Hunter.

The boy went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of soda. He opened it and took a long drink. Claire nodded at the cookie jar and Hunter smiled slightly as he pulled out three large cookies. Claire was glad to see that Hunter's appetite seemed to be returning and his bruises and scrapes had almost disappeared. All that remained to be healed was his spirit. That she wasn't so sure about. He was still far too quiet.

"What kept you at the farm?" she asked.

"Bill let me work with Steve after our session. We moved some hay bales to get the barn ready for the new batch they'll be bringing in."

"Do you like working at the farm?" Claire asked. Often unhappy boys found that work on the farm was peaceful and satisfying. You could see what you had accomplished at the end of the day.

"It's, okay."

"Just okay?"

Hunter munched on his cookie as he sat at the big kitchen table and watched Claire work. He did like working at the farm. "We got the barn all organized. It felt , good."

Claire smiled to herself. That was what she had wanted to hear. "I bet you'll have a good appetite for dinner. We're having roast beef."

"Is that what I smell? You're a good cook."

"Thanks. I take pride in my cooking."

"I" Hunter hesitated.

"What? What were you going to say?"

"I, I just wish that I had something to take pride in." Hunter's face reflected an innate sadness.

"You do."

"Oh yeah, like what?" Hunter wanted to know. He was sick of all the bullshit adults fed him about being strong and proud and accomplishing stuff. It was all a crock of shit.

"Aren't you proud of how the barn looks after working to get everything in order?" Claire asked.

"I guess so," Hunter replied slowly.

"A good day's work or a fine meal or making a positive difference in someone's life, all of those are things to be proud of."

"There's only one way that I can make a 'positive' difference in someone's life," Hunter replied with a rueful look on his face.

"Hunter, don't do that," Claire chastised.

"Do what?"

"Put yourself down. I'm sure you made a positive difference helping Bill today. He would get the barn finished that much sooner with your help."

"Big deal!"

"It is a big deal. Changes usually come in small increments. Be patient."

"That's not how my life works," Hunter declared.

"What do you mean?"

"My mother and father never really wanted me. They used me, especially my mother."

"You're not responsible for what your mother does. She doesn't sound like a very nice lady."

Hunter snorted. "She's no lady!" He studied Claire's back as she cut out the biscuits to put in the oven. "What would you do if John came home and told you he was HIV positive?"

"Heaven forbid," Claire said before she could stop herself. She turned quickly to apologize and saw the involuntary wince that Hunter had at her words. "I wouldn't wish that on anyone, you included. But, if John became positive, I would hold him a little tighter when I hugged him and probably cry myself to sleep at night."

"Nobody cries for me," Hunter said staring at the floor.

"I bet Ben and Michael do."

"I doubt it."

"I don't think you do. It was their high expectations and hopes for you that scared you away from them. They want you to have a normal life."

"And that's the fucking problem. I'm not normal. I can never have a normal life."

Claire sighed feeling sadness for this lost soul. "I saw a sun catcher in a store the other day. It said, 'Normal around here is just a setting on the dryer.' I thought there was a lot of truth in that."

Hunter snorted again. "You have the most normal home I've ever seen."

"You think so?" Claire laughed. "I had John out of wedlock when that was a huge sin in the eyes of society. I raised him with his grandparents. He's gay and we all live here with his homosexual partner. Does that sound normal to you?"

"But you're all successful and happy and, content."

"Most of the time, but we have our moments."

"How do you do it?"

"I haven't a clue. We just do the best we can, and that's all that should be expected of anyone, including you." Claire stepped over beside Hunter and squeezed his shoulder affectionately.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. Now go have a shower. You smell like the barn. John and Bobby should be home in half an hour and we have roast beef for dinner."

"Life is good?" Hunter asked making it a question.

"Very good," Claire said with a smile as she watched Hunter head upstairs.


	11. Runaway Life

"Hello."

"Hi, Bill, it's Bobby."

"Hi Bobby. What can I do for you?"

"Are you free tonight for dinner? I, um, I could use some advise."

"Bobby, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so but I need to talk a little. It's pasta night at the Honey Bear."

"Pasta night, huh. Well in that case, what time should we meet?"

"About seven?"

"Sounds good to me. See you then."

 

"Hey kid, I ordered you a beer."

"Thanks. I'm liking this Indian summer but it was hot today and I'm so too old to be a kid."

"I worked up a sweat at the Farm and you haven't changed since we first met. You'll always be a kid to me. Bobby, what's wrong? Is this thing with Hunter getting to you?"

"How'd you guess?"

"Something he said a few days ago. Said he had a talk with you and he was able to get a few things off his chest. Hunter got a lesson in skipping stones and I think we made a little progress."

"I remember the day you taught me how to skip stones. I thought it was the most useless thing I ever learned until I realized that I had learned something and I didn't hurt quite as much as I did early that day. Bill, I never told Steve that I was there that night. I never told anyone but you. I wasn't allowed to go to the funeral. I never even went to Jimmy's grave. I still feel guilty about that night."

"Bobby, you were a kid, only fourteen. What makes you think you could have made any difference?"

"But I should have told someone."

"Maybe. But what would you have said? A guy you knew was going driving with a bunch of kids. Yeah, so what? Bobby, it was Jimmy's choice. He was planning that for a long time. I spoke to some of the other kids back then. They had a dare going on. It was stupid, reckless and fatal."

"But Steve, he didn't deserve that. He's a good man."

"And Hunter didn't deserve a mother who pimped him out as a child. And you don't deserve to feel guilty about something you had no control over. Bobby, I promise you Hunter will get through this. It won't be easy and it will take time but with you to support him and guide him, Hunter will be okay. Bobby, do you want to meet with me on a weekly basis? We can have dinner and talk about old times. How does that sound?"

"I think I'd like that, Bill. Maybe for a few weeks, you know? I need to take control. I feel like I lost it somewhere along the way."

"Good boy, and besides, I've always liked pasta night."

"How is Gary?"

"Good. We've just celebrated our fifteenth anniversary."

"Wow. That's longer than some het couples I know. Bill, I want the same for me and John. He wants to marry me and we've been talking about kids."

"Bobby, I can't think of two better parents than you and John. We'll get through this, kid. I promise."

"Yeah, we will. And I'm not a kid."

"Sure, kid. I know."

 

"Bobby?"

"It's me. Did I wake you?"

"No, I was waiting up for you. Are you all right?"

"Yeah, but could we go outside to the barn? I need to talk to you."

"And you can't talk here? In our room?"

"Please John, I need this."

"Okay, let's go."

John and Bobby left the house and walked to the barn. Bobby indicated to John that he wanted to go up to the loft space. John climbed up the ladder as Bobby opened the storage closet and took out the sleeping bags that Brian had purchased for the treehouse. Bobby tossed them up to John before he climbed up. In silence they spread one out over the soft straw. The other lay close by. John laid down and Bobby snuggled up next to him.

"John, I have to tell you something but I need you not to say a word until I'm done. I'm afraid if you ask me anything I'll chicken out."

"Okay, but you have to answer a question for me first then I promise not to say anything."

"Go ahead, ask."

"Are you leaving me?"

"Leaving you? Oh god, no John! NO!..I love you so much, you're my life."

"Shit. I've been so scared. I thought things were better after the dinner with your parents but..."

"I know, that's what I want to talk to you about."

The lovers snuggled close and Bobby told John about the night Jimmy died. He told him about the pent up guilt he felt all those years and how ashamed he felt for not telling Steve he was with Jimmy just before he was killed. Bobby told him that he wasn't allowed to go to the funeral, how he never got to say goodbye. Bobby began to sob into John's chest; all his guilt and sorrow came pouring out. John tightened his grip on his lover and as promised stayed quiet except for whispering his words of love into Bobby's hair. After a while Bobby became calm.

"John, I need you...I need to take...I..."

"Baby, whatever you need, whatever you want. I'm here."

Bobby quickly stripped off his clothes and John's. He rolled John onto his belly then prepared John. Quickly, almost roughly Bobby entered John, hesitating at John's gasp.

"Bobby, I'm tough. Do it baby, take what you need."

Bobby began thrusting into John's heat. Tears of sadness and joy began to flow down Bobby's face. After some time, Bobby withdrew then rolled John onto his back. Lifting John's legs over his shoulders, Bobby began thrusting again into his lover. John met Bobby thrust for thrust. They held each other's gaze.

Holding tight onto John's thighs Bobby began to scream out his love. John fisted his own cock and the lovers came together. Bobby collapsed onto John's chest, their sweat mingling with John's cum. Neither spoke for a long time.

"You okay?"

"Yes, you? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, baby, you didn't. I swear."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For being so rough."

"Bobby, remember that evening when I thought you and Brian fucked in the churchyard?"

"Yeah."

"I was kind of rough on you. I thought I had to take back what I thought was mine. That wasn't very nice of me. Sometimes we need to take back control."

"But at what cost?"

"I would pay anything, do anything to keep you from hurting, to keep you with me and happy. A little rough sex now and then is a very small price to pay."

"John Anderson, will you marry me?"

"Yes, Bobby Morrison, I will marry you. Now that that's settled, are we sleeping here tonight? If we are, I'll set the alarm on my watch. I have a client to see in the morning."

"John, I don't think I can move. Besides, I think we're glued together." The lovers chuckled as John set his watch. Then he reached for the other sleeping bag and settled it over the two of them.

"I love you Bobby," John whispered.

"Love you," Bobby answered as he drifted off to sleep, secure in John's arms.

 

Hunter mucked out the last stall and wiped the sweat from his brow. He never in his wildest dreams thought he would be cleaning up horse crap and enjoying it. Making the barn fresh and clean was somehow therapeutic, almost like cleaning up his own fucked up life. He threw the shovel on the heap of manure and wheeled it out to the pile behind the barn. He tipped the wheelbarrow emptying the contents against the stinking mass, then used the shovel to scrape the rest out of the barrow.

"You done?" Steve asked coming up behind him.

"Yeah," Hunter answered. "Just finished."

"Good. Bill's rustling us up some lunch. Should be ready in a few minutes."

"Steve, can I ask you something? Am I doing a good job around here?"

"Yeah, you make a fine farmhand." Steve smiled and lit a cigarette. He motioned for Hunter to join him on a bale of hay away from the stinking manure.

"Thanks. I, I kinda like how I feel when I complete a job," Hunter admitted.

"That's what happens to a lot of kids who come here. They finally find out that they can be good at something, no matter how shitty and disgusting that something may be." Steve chuckled as he indicated the manure pile.

"I can see why the farm is a success with a lot of those kids."

"Kids just like you?"

"Have you had other positive kids here?"

"No actually, you're the first."

Hunter grimaced. "I guess at the age of the kids who come here not many are sexually active."

"You might be surprised at that."

"Really? I guess I always feel like I'm the only one who has to face these things, like I'm the fucking most unlucky shit on the face of the Earth."

"You've had some rough deals in your life, but lots of other people do too."

"Like your son?" Hunter asked. He had wanted to talk to Steve ever since Bobby had told him about Steve's son.

"You know about my son?"

"A bit. Bobby told me that Jimmy was a friend of his."

"Jimmy, he was, he was a wild kid. I wish I had known then what I know now. I might have been able to help him, to save him." Steve stared at the ground as he took a puff of his cigarette. He shook his head.

"But look what you have learned from it, how many kids you've helped. Maybe that was how things were supposed to turn out."

"When did you become the fucking counselor?" Steve asked but there was no anger in his voice, just a touch of amusement.

"I'm thinking of getting my degree next week," Hunter joked.

"You might be good at it, you know."

"You think?" Hunter chuckled. He frowned thinking and then he had to say it. "Do you know what my full name is?"

"You're name's Hunter, isn't it?"

"My full name is James Hunter Montgomery. I was always Jimmy until I hit the streets and changed it to Hunter. It sounded more grown up, more dangerous."

"Jimmy, like my son," Steve said staring off into space.

"Yeah, I guess that's part of why I feel a connection to this place, to you and Bill."

"It is an interesting coincidence."

"I think it's more than that. I think I was meant to come here. I'm not entirely sure why, but everything since I left Pittsburgh seemed to be steering me here. It has to be more than just a coincidence."

"Maybe so."

"Wasn't your son about my age when he died?"

"Pretty close."

"I, I'm pretty well healed. My ribs don't hurt anymore. I can work hard. Do you think I could work here for a while?"

"That's Bill's decision."

"But you could put a good word in for me, couldn't you?"

"The Andersons aren't about to kick you out. You can work here as much as you want."

"I know, I mean, I guess I understand that. But, I'd really like it to be a job, to be something that I earned, something that I had accomplished."

"I'll make that recommendation right after lunch," Steve grinned standing and wrapping an arm around Hunter's shoulder. They started walking towards the office.

"Thanks, I hope Bill will agree."

"I can't see why he wouldn't," Steve replied pulling Hunter a little closer. Maybe this was a second chance for them all.


	12. Runaway Life

September had come and gone. October started off with warm days and cooling nights. The Anderson household plus one ex-hustler runaway had fallen into a quiet routine. Each day John and Bobby went to work. Hunter went to the farm for his sessions with Bill and for his regularly assigned chores. The Farm was officially shut down for the season but it still required farmhands to tend to the animals throughout the winter and there was the last harvest of the year to send off to market. It was becoming abundantly clear that Hunter wasn't going to return to Pittsburgh anytime soon.

Bobby kept up his weekly reports to Ben and Michael. It was difficult to keep them from driving up but they understood how important it was to Hunter to keep their distance for a little while longer. Brian did as he promised, distracting Michael and keeping Debbie from getting arrested. Hunter's bruises and ribs had healed and along with Claire's good cooking, Hunter was looking like any other teenage boy. He was beginning to feel like it too, if the increased noise level was any indication. Even Bobby was feeling like his old self, although John wasn't thoroughly convinced that Bobby was as okay as he claimed to be. There was still something Bobby had to do, to face up to the demons that had plagued him for so long. But Bobby wasn't quite ready yet. He still met with Bill but it was more like a meeting with an old friend rather than a counseling session.

Bill assisted Bobby with his research into home schooling and online courses so that Hunter could finish high school. Hunter was seriously considering a career in counseling but for now he had a career in farming and was doing a very good job of it. So good that Steve and Bill put Hunter on the payroll. Hunter decided that with a regular paycheck coming in, he'd save up for a laptop so he could finish school. And he wanted to pay Claire rent. In lieu of rent, Hunter helped out Claire around the house, keeping the yard and barn spick and span and with any other job Claire had for him. Hunter felt better about himself especially when he accomplished something. And then there was taking the time to walk through the woods, watch the leaves change color and skipping stones. Hunter was getting very good at skipping stones.

Before it became too cool for an outdoor barbecue, Claire suggested a family get together with the Liberty Avenue contingent along with the Morrisons. Bill agreed with Claire that it might be easier on Hunter to reintegrate into the family as a whole rather than one on one. The Andersons and Bobby would run interference if necessary.

The plan was relatively simple. Brian and Justin would drive up Friday night. Brian had already made arrangements with the local market to have the extra food delivered so that Claire wouldn't have to cart all of it home. The clan would converge early Saturday afternoon while it was still sunny and warm. They'd spend a nice afternoon getting to know one another then leave the following morning. Lindsay had an important opening so she and Gus would not attend. As much as Brian wanted Gus there, it was better he stayed home for this one. Come Thanksgiving Gus would be there. Carl and Debbie would bring Ben and Michael. Jennifer would travel with Ted and Emmett. Again, the Andersons were creative with the sleeping arrangements. Hunter would give up his room to Debbie and Carl. He, Ben and Michael would spend the night at the cottage; to be alone as a family if only for the night. John, Bobby, Brian and Justin would bunk up in the barn loft. They had plenty of sleeping bags and it wasn't that cold at night yet. That left John and Bobby's room for Jennifer. Temmett would camp out in the living room.

John had a special surprise for Hunter. In all the talks that Bobby and Hunter had, Bobby found out what kind of watch Hunter had lost. It still bothered Hunter that his watch was stolen. It wasn't very expensive but it was a gift from Ben and it meant a lot to Hunter. It also had an inscription which made it easy to identify. John had a theory that the watch was of little use to the kids that mugged Hunter except for maybe some quick cash if pawned. John checked out all the pawn shops within a ten block radius from where Hunter was attacked. Sure enough, John found the watch and bought it back. John had it cleaned and serviced and planned to give it to Hunter at the barbecue.

Bobby was a little apprehensive about his parents meeting the Liberty Avenue part of the family. Carl, Jennifer, as well as Ted, Ben and Michael were all tame compared with Emmett and Debbie. He wasn't sure that Emmett's flame and Debbie's exuberance wouldn't scare the life out of his mother and father. Bobby knew that Rachel could handle it but he asked if her kids could stay home for this party. Rachel agreed. She laughed loudly at Bobby's description of Debbie and Emmett and thought no one could be that out and proud. Bobby assured her that his description was nothing compared to the real thing. Rachel said she'd be there to make sure their mother didn't faint into the coleslaw.

Everything was well thought out, or so it seemed.

Brian and Justin left Pittsburgh about one in the afternoon to miss the traffic and get to the Anderson's early enough just in case there was any last minute shopping or cleaning Claire had to do. It was going on four when they hit the interstate turn off and they drove leisurely through the town.

"Justin, pull over."

"What?"

"Pull over." Justin slowed and pulled the Cherokee to the side of the road.

"Isn't that Bobby's car?"

"Where?"

"Over there, near the gate for the cemetery. I wonder why he's going to the cemetery."

"Brian, are you sure that's Bobby's car?"

"Looks like it. Wait. Yup, can't miss that red hair. Stay here. I want to make sure he's okay."

"Brian."

"Justin, trust me. John's been worried about his redhead. I just want to make sure everything's all right." Justin gazed into Brian's eyes. He knew that Brian had no designs on Bobby. He and Bobby had become good friends.

"Okay. I'll be here if you need me." Justin smiled for Brian.

"I always need you. I won't be long. Besides, now you can play that awful CD you just bought and as loud as you want." Brian gave Justin a kiss. Justin shooed Brian out of the car.

It wasn't too difficult for Brian to find Bobby. The sun was waning but it's light reflected off of Bobby's red hair like a beacon. Brian found Bobby kneeling at a grave. In between sobs, Brian could hear Bobby saying he was sorry.

"Bobby?"

"Shit! Brian. What the hell are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same."

"I...I had to come..." Bobby couldn't finish. He sat down on the grass and continued to cry. Brian sat and drew the redhead close, cradling him between his long legs.

"What's wrong? Whose grave is this?" Brian asked softly.

"Jimmy. Steve's son."

"Shit."

"You know the story?"

"A little. He was caught trying to rob a convenience store and killed."

"Yeah. But what you don't know, what Steve doesn't know is that I was with Jimmy. Earlier, that night. We were just a bunch of kids goofing off. Jimmy dropped me home then they drove off looking for some place to rob. I could have been there. I never saw Jimmy again. This is the first time I've visited his grave."

Bobby sniffled a little more then sighed. Brian tightened his hug.

"And you still have dreams about Jimmy?" Brian was an expert on haunting dreams.

"I didn't for a long time. I thought I got over it."

"But Hunter's little problem awakened them again."

"Yeah. How'd you guess?"

"It happens to me sometimes. Just when I think I've gotten over the bashing, something happens and I have nightmares. I've never told Justin. He doesn't need that shit from me."

"So when he has the bad dreams, you cuddle with him and chase away his nightmares."

"I guess so."

"And who chases away yours?" Brian shrugged then wiped away a stray tear from Bobby's cheek.

"Hard to imagine a big bad top like Brian Kinney cuddling with a little blond twink," Bobby smirked.

"Brian Kinney does not cuddle. And Justin Taylor is no twink, but don't tell him I said that," Brian chuckled.

"My lips are sealed."

"Bobby, you need to talk to Steve. Tell him how you feel. He's a good man. He'll understand."

"I want to Brian but I'm scared and ashamed."

"You have nothing to be ashamed of. You were just a kid. And I can't believe that Bobby Morrison, defender of homosexual straight men, dart frog warrior, asshole priest fighter, and attorney to wayward ex-hustlers, is afraid of anything." Brian thought a minute then continued. "Bobby, was Jimmy all that bad?"

"No. He was real wild at times but he could sure play baseball. That's how I knew him."

"Then that's what you tell Steve. Tell Steve you knew the good Jimmy and that he made sure you got home before he decided to rob that store. Give Steve that much."

"Damn."

"What?"

"Now I know why that blond of yours is so hung up on you. You're a good man, Brian Kinney."

"We won't let that secret get around, now will we? Can't ruin my asshole rep."

Brian and Bobby shared a laugh then helped each other up.

"Come on, old man. I bet Justin's wondering what's going on. You know, you, me, a cemetery."

"Watch it with the old shit. We're about the same age. You okay to drive home?"

"Yeah, I am, thanks. And thank you for listening and the cuddling."

"I don't do..."

"Tell it walking, old man. Your secret's safe with me."

"Come on, Red. I think I can smell Claire's cookies baking. Justin will be hungry."

"When is he ever not hungry?" Bobby gave Brian a kiss on his cheek and the two friends walked back to their cars.

As Brian got back into the Cherokee Justin turned down the music.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah." Brian pulled Justin as close as he could and gave him a deep kiss.

"What was that for? Not that I'm complaining."

"I don't know. Something I needed to do. Drive. I bet there's cookies at that thar farm." Justin laughed then gave Brian his full Sunshine smile. They drove to the farm with Bobby close behind.

It didn't take long to get settled into the farm. They had cookies with Claire, Hunter and Bobby. John came in while they were still eating them. No mention was made of the cemetery scene from earlier. Once the cookies were eaten, Brian said he wanted to go down to the stream for a smoke. Justin decided to stay behind and see what he could do to help Claire get ready for the massive onslaught the next day.

Beau met Brian at the door wagging his tail for all he was worth. He followed Brian as they made their way down to the stream. Brian dropped down onto the big rock and lit a cigarette. He heard a little rustle behind him but ignored it wanting to be alone. He needed to think about what had happened with Bobby in the cemetery.

Someone cleared their throat and Brian turned slightly to see who it was. Hunter obviously didn't understand Brian's need to be alone.

"So, what is it, littlest hustler?"

"Why do you call me that?" Hunter asked.

"Force of habit."

"Brian, I need to talk to somebody."

"You have Bobby and John and Claire and Bill and..."

"I get the picture, okay! But what I need to know I can't ask them."

"I thought you'd be past wanting advice about sex at this point," Brian retorted.

"I could probably teach you a thing or two," Hunter shot back.

Brian raised an eyebrow and then chuckled. "So what do you want to ask?"

"It's about Michael and Ben."

"Aah."

"What do you think they would say if I told them I wanted to work here... and live here?"

Brian studied Hunter's face as the boy joined him on the rock. "Is that what you want to do?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Then do it."

"But what about Ben and Michael?"

"They'll be upset. Hell, Michael flies off at the slightest thing. He's the son of a fag hag and a drag queen. What would you expect?"

"I... I don't want to hurt them. They've been great to me."

"But sometimes you have to do what's best for you," Brian said pointedly.

"Is that what you did?"

"Yeah, my family life sucked almost as much as yours," Brian said honestly. "I decided I was getting away from them if it was the last thing I ever did."

"How did you do it?"

"Education."

Hunter snorted. "I can't go back to that high school. They all hate me and shun me or call me names. What's the point anyway? I have HIV."

"Ah, the HIV card."

"What... what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"You should do what the fuck you want to do. The only person you can really rely on is yourself, not Mikey or Ben or Bobby or your fucking mother. Stand on your own two feet."

"It's hard to do that," Hunter said trying not to cry.

"I didn't say it was easy. Doing what you know is right for you is never easy, especially if it doesn't go along with what your family wants."

"What did your family want for you?" Hunter asked changing the topic until he got control of himself.

Brian snorted. "You mean other than for me to rot in Hell?"

"They... they didn't say that, did they?"

"I think those were my mother's exact words a few weeks ago."

"Fuck! And I thought my mother was a bitch! But what about when you were my age? What did they want back then?" Hunter stood up and started skipping stones.

"You mean way back in the Iron Age?" Brian joked. "Let's see; my father expected me to join the union just like he had." Brian watched Hunter skip some more stones. "You're pretty good at that."

Hunter grinned. "Bill taught me one day and I've been practicing ever since. There's a real skill to it."

Brian noted the words Hunter used and smiled slightly. "So what are you going to do with your skills if you stay here?"

"I've been working at the farm. It feels good to see what I accomplish each day. Bill says I make a good farmhand."

"Farmhand! Hmm. Not your ordinary career choice these days. Ben and Michael will be pleased," Brian said sarcastically. He knew Hunter was a bright boy, but farm work was hardly challenging.

"See, I knew they'd be mad at me."

"What they think is irrelevant. Do what you have to do."

"What I want to do is stay here, work on the farm, and take correspondence courses. Eventually I'd like to become a counselor here. If I live that long."

"Of course, you will," Brian said quickly. He hated to hear Hunter talk about dying. "That sounds like a plan."

"Do you think they'll let me do it?"

"Ben and Michael? Why wouldn't they let you do it?"

"Michael wants me to be a doctor or some fucking high brow thing like that."

"If you want something different, go for it. It's your life."

"I was thinking about talking to them about it this weekend."

"Sounds good to me. And stick to your guns," Brian added knowing how Michael could make a person feel guilty. "Can you show me how to do that?" Brian asked picking up a stone.

"Sure," Hunter smiled showing Brian how to position his feet and hand.

After several tries Brian got one to skip across the water. "You're a good teacher. Patient and helpful. I could see you making a decent counselor."

Hunter smiled as Brian skipped another stone. "You're a good student. And a good listener."

"Who'd a thunk?" Brian laughed.

"I think dinner's probably ready. We should go back."

"Yeah," Brian agreed. He laid an arm across Hunter's shoulders as they headed back to the house.

Brian and Hunter were approaching the house when Hunter noticed Brian's week's worth of a beard and mustache. Hunter found it very attractive but then again Brian could go around naked or dressed in a potato sack and Hunter would find Brian attractive. Shaking the myriad of Brian visions from his head, Hunter ventured a comment.

"Brian?"

"Yes." Brian heard the sarcastic tone in Hunter's voice and braced himself for one of Hunter's come ons.

"What's with the fuzz on your face? Blondie have a thing for bears?" Brian's death glare was Hunter's answer for the last comment. But Hunter was never ever really frightened of Brian, no matter how many death glares were shot in his direction. Hunter was uncharacteristically patient when it came to Brian. Finally his patience was rewarded.

"Woke up late one morning and didn't have time to shave. By late that night I had some real heavy growth going on. I was too tired to shave that night and the next day was Saturday, so I kept it."

"And what does blondie think about it, not that his opinion matters." Hunter smirked, he felt, not saw the glare. But Brian was an expert on keeping little blond teenagers on their toes. With his best cruising for tricks, take no prisoner smile on his face, Brian let Hunter know just how appreciated his beard was.

"Justin's become very creative in preventing beard burn." Brian laughed, Hunter scowled.

As Justin greeted them at the door, Brian started stroking his beard still with that smile on his face. Confirming Justin's appreciation for the fuzz on Brian's face and to further increase Hunter's scowl, Justin sidled up to Brian and pulled Brian down by his nape for an intense kiss.

Hunter huffed passed them and grumbled, "Get a room! Shit, a whole fucking weekend with them fucking. I'm going to be traumatized for life." Hunter pulled the lovers, who were still sucking face in the doorway, into the house and slammed the door.


	13. Runaway Life

Hunter awoke the next morning with the sun streaming into his room. He stretched, got out of bed and crossed to the window, throwing it open to feel the sun on his face. The air was cool and crisp but with the promise of a warm afternoon. Hunter listened to the sounds of the countryside. He loved the quiet of the farm. If he could spend the rest of his life here, on the farm, Hunter would. He leaned a little out the window. If he concentrated, he could hear the rustle of the breeze through the trees, the water flowing over the rocks at the stream, an occasional sleepy bullfrog, and "Justin, fuck me!" Hunter shut the window. Try as he might to be angry and jealous, knowing that blondie was fucking the life out of Brian in the barn, Hunter couldn't. He knew that in this life, in this universe, the sun was Justin, and Brian his only moon allowed to orbit. Brian's orbit may wax and wane on occasion but Brian remained the only satellite.

Shaking his head, Hunter got dressed, straightened up his room and changed the sheets. Secretly he hoped that it wouldn't be Carl and Debbie sleeping in his room that night. The thought of hetero sex taking place on his bed horrified him, especially sex between Carl and Debbie. He shuddered at the visual then went to place the dirty linen in the hamper and get washed up. He packed a small bag so that he could spend the night at the cottage with Michael and Ben. Hunter wanted to get downstairs to help with breakfast and the preparations for the day.

Next door in Bobby and John's room, they were doing the same, changing the sheets and airing out the room. John blushed as Bobby opened the windows to get the smell of sex out of the air. Bobby returned the blush and shook his head. Even after a year, the honeymoon wasn't over. The lover's hugged and laughed in each other's arms. Bobby affectionately patted John's well-ridden rump as they too went to place their sheets in the hamper. Hunter met the lovers in the hall and recognized the signs of afterglow. Bobby winked at Hunter, who rolled his eyes and chuckled. The Kinney-Anderson men had had some night with their blue-eyed, pale skinned lovers.

Again Hunter was amazed at the feelings he was having. Two months ago he would have been green with envy and angry that he would never have someone to love, let alone have sex with. Now, he had more important things to do, like finishing his education, getting a computer, doing a good job at the farm. Hunter wanted the Andersons to be proud of him, especially Bobby. He had taken a lot of little steps and all in the right direction. He could have sworn he was going to wake up anxious, wanting to hide in his room all day. Although he was a little nervous about seeing Michael and Ben, he knew he'd get through it. Meeting Debbie after all this time was going to be another matter but Hunter had a funny feeling Brian would help him out. The trio joined Claire in the kitchen and began the task of getting breakfast on the table.

Brian and Justin skidded to a halt as they sprinted into Claire's kitchen. Brian wore the same well-fucked expression that John had. Bobby and Justin looked as if they grew a few inches taller overnight. Claire had long decided that if she was to survive as the country's version of Debbie, she'd better get over the looks, language and innuendoes really fast. As Claire began to dish up breakfast, Hunter decided he was going to stay a kid for as long as he could and not deal with insatiable partners any time in the near future.

Brian ate his usual light breakfast, having finally found a comfortable position on the cushion Justin brought in from the screen porch for him to sit on. After several cups of coffee and a slice of toast, he was ready to face the day. The amount of food that was going to be cooked and consumed later that afternoon could have fed a small country. Brian knew that with so many mother figures around to plague him, it would behoove him to be hungry later. John stuck with ham and eggs, requiring the extra protein to replenish what he had lost last night. Claire smiled at the healthy appetite Hunter and Justin displayed and noted that even Bobby snuck a second muffin. Claire was also aware of the changes Bobby had gone through over the past month and was pleased that he seemed like his old self again. Breakfast was pleasant, filled with happy chatter and reviewing the day's agenda.

After breakfast, Brian and Justin remained in the kitchen with Claire to prepare the vegetables and season the meat. John, Bobby and Hunter went to the barn to get the table and chairs and to prepare the yard and grill. The Liberty Avenue part of the family would be arriving around noon, Bobby's family was expected at about the same time. Steve, Bill and Bill's long time partner, Gary, were also invited. Both Hunter and Bobby wanted them there.

It was just going on twelve when the first car pulled up the drive; it was Debbie, Carl, Ben and Michael. The minute the car was in park, Debbie and Michael were out and yelling for Hunter. Hunter took a deep breath and pushed open the screen door, closely followed by Brian and Bobby.

"Hunter, oh god, Hunter, you look like you grew a couple of inches." Michael gushed out gibberish and drew the boy into his arms. "Oh, your ribs. Am I hurting you?"

"No, Michael. I'm all better."

"Come here, you little shit. You had us all worried." Debbie sucked Hunter into one of her back breaking, turning blue in the face bear hugs. Hunter found himself smothered by a pair of huge breasts.

"Jesus, Debbie. Will you let the kid go, he can't breathe!" Brian began prying off the red painted fingers.

"And you!" Debbie screamed at Brian. "You asshole, you knew where he was all the time and you didn't tell me. Some fucking best friend you are. Michael and Ben were going crazy."

"Debbie," it was Bobby's turn to explain before Brian had the chance. "Debbie, Brian had no choice. He was instructed not to tell anyone Hunter's location. Brian was only allowed to say that Hunter was well looked after and safe."

Debbie, not quite able to engage her brain before putting her mouth in gear began to tell Bobby where he could get off.

"Why you little red-headed shit, who the fuck do you think you are?" Brian shook his head and stood back, waiting for John's caveman alter ego to attack.

"Debbie..." John growled, stretching to his full height. Bobby quickly put himself between Debbie and John and calmly explained to the un-naturally red headed woman, just exactly who Bobby Morrison was.

"Debbie, I'm Hunter's lawyer. As such, I have the right to protect my client. Hunter was in no way physically or emotionally ready to speak to anyone when we found him. He required medical attention, which we saw to and when he was able, he started counseling sessions with Bill. Now, will you all stop yelling and give the boy the chance to say hello. If you don't behave, I'll recommend to my client that he return to his room and I'll ask you all to leave. So, what will it be?"

Debbie stared at the petite red head with the biggest balls in the state of Pennsylvania. She looked at Hunter, who was wearing rather a smug expression but Debbie's glare wiped the look off his face. Debbie faced the asshole, uh, Brian, who merely shrugged and held up his hands indicating just how big Bobby's balls were. Debbie took a double take at John who went from a murderous look in his eye to beaming with pride at Bobby's boldness. Debbie knew she was beat.

"Okay," was all Debbie could muster. She kissed Hunter then cuffed him on the back of his head. "You just behave yourself." Then she went in the house to assist Claire. Both Hunter and Bobby breathed a sigh of relief.

Michael and Ben gave Hunter proper hello hugs and kisses then looked him over for signs of physical flaws. They were satisfied that life in the country did seem to be the best thing for Hunter and it was beginning to be obvious that he was not going to go back to Pittsburgh with them the next day. Carl gave the boy a handshake then a hug. "I better go soothe someone's ruffled feathers," Carl stated then went in the house to console Debbie.

Temmett's car was pulling in the drive. Jennifer got out, gave Justin a hug and a kiss as well as a kiss to Brian's cheek. She greeted everyone and Justin brought her in the house to show her the albums of their trip to South America. Ted smiled weakly, stretched the kinks of the long drive out then also went in the house to lend a hand. Emmett was his bouncy self, dressed in a sweater of red, yellow, orange and brown with bright orange leather pants. He looked as if he should be raked up with the other leaves. Brian, John and Bobby couldn't help but stare at the man's outfit.

"What? It's Fall. I'm wearing Fall colors."

"Somehow I don't think Mother Nature had you in mind when she created the Autumn season," Bobby said coolly.

"I think you'd look fabulous in this sweater, especially with all that red hair."

"NO!" John, Bobby and Brian shouted back.

"Wimps," Emmett said over his shoulder as he sashayed into the house. John, Bobby, and Brian shook their heads and followed Emmett but not too closely fearing the flames that were burning very brightly.

Everyone pitched in getting the hors d'oeuvres on the table, salads, iced tea and rolls. Claire had vegetables grilling as well as the corn. All that was left to do was put on the meat, greet Steve, Bill and Gary and meet the Morrisons.

Steve, Bill and Gary arrived together and were welcomed by all and sundry. They each grabbed a beer and brought out their folding lawn chairs and made themselves to home. Gary was a big, gentle man. Everyone could see why Bill was so fond of him. After another half hour had passed, everyone was becoming concerned that Bobby's parents hadn't arrived yet. Bobby was sure he had told them the right time, and they had already been to the Anderson house. They couldn't be lost.

"They're not coming," Bobby said in a hushed voice.

"I heard that," John said wrapping his arms around Bobby's waist. "Don't jump to conclusions."

"They would already be here if they were coming."

"We'll give them another fifteen minutes and see if they show."

"They're probably scared out of their fucking wits by everything I told them about the Liberty Avenue gang. Why didn't I keep my mouth shut?"

"Forewarned is forearmed," Brian said walking up to the two. "They seemed like nice people when Justin and I met them. I'm sure they'll be here."

"I wish I could be half as sure as you are," Bobby grumbled. His own fucking parents were going to let him down.

"Hey, I'm usually the pessimist. Cheer up," Brian said. "There's a car coming up the driveway right now."

Bobby's face cleared as he recognized the car. "They came," he said in an outbreath. "They fucking came."

Bobby rushed over to the car as it pulled to a stop. Everyone watched as Bobby's parents emerged and gave their son a hug. Mrs. Morrison opened the back door of the car and pulled out a large cake. Carrying the cake for his mother Bobby led them over to the big group of people. He made the introductions as each person welcomed his parents to the gathering.

"It's nice to meet all of you," Dr. Morrison said. "I'm sure we won't remember everyone's name, but we'll do our best."

"Don't give it a fucking second thought," Debbie piped up. "We answer to anything."

Amid laughter Brian said, "Speak for yourself, Deb."

"I am, you little shit!"

Everyone laughed and Mrs. Morrison looked slightly taken aback at the exchange between Brian and this loud woman. "I should take the cake inside," she said hesitantly. "I'm sorry we're late but I wanted to get the icing just right and it wouldn't cooperate."

"This bunch'll eat any fucking thing," Debbie offered.

"I'll have you know I have a very discriminating palate," Emmett said in his very best queeny voice.

"That's the only fucking thing you're discriminating about," Debbie laughed. Others joined in.

Claire and Jennifer stepped forward to rescue Mrs. Morrison from any more of Debbie's barbs. They ushered her and her cake into the screen porch. Dr. Morrison stood by his son wondering what to do.

"Come have a seat over here," Carl called holding up a beer to the bewildered man.

Dr. Morrison went over to Carl, accepted the beer and flopped down in the chair next to him. He wiped his brow where it was evident he had been sweating.

"Don't worry," Carl told him. "I'm straight and the rest of them are pretty harmless when you get right down to it."

"That's a relief," Dr. Morrison said taking a good swig of the beer. "I'm Dan."

"Carl."

"What about that loud woman?"

"She's my fiance."

"Oh... oh, I'm sorry," Dan said getting all flustered again.

Carl laughed. "She takes a little getting used to, but she's a helluva woman when you do."

"I'll take your word for it."

"Looks are often deceiving," Carl said philosophically.

Dan frowned thinking about that. "What about the one that looks like an overgrown autumn leaf?" He watched the man swish around the table checking that everyone had cutlery and napkins.

"That's Emmett. He lives with Debbie and me. He's the salt of the earth, one of the most loyal friends you could ever have,"

"Really?"

"Absolutely. He can queen out with the best of them, but he always comes through in the end. Pardon the pun."

Dr. Morrison looked at Carl wondering what pun he was supposed to pardon. "You actually share a house with those two? How...how do you do it?"

"Life is never dull," Carl laughed.

"What do you do...as a job?"

"I'm a police detective."

"Well, I'll be!"

Carl laughed again. "I told you not to judge a book by its cover."

"And you're okay with all this gay stuff?"

"Yeah. I mean, I wasn't at first, but I learned. They're just people who have problems and good times like everyone else. I've come to like and respect every one of them."

"I see." Dan Morrison sat back watching the bantering and jokes being cracked all around them.

In the kitchen Claire set the cake on the counter. She turned to Emily Morrison and smiled gently. She wanted this woman to like her for her son's sake... and for Bobby.

"That looks like a delicious cake," she said.

"It's chocolate, an old family recipe. The icing is a concoction of my own. I didn't think I was going to get it right in time to bring it."

"It was lovely of you to go to all that trouble," Jennifer said. "I'm Justin's mother, Jennifer Taylor, in case you don't remember."

"I had dinner with your son and his...partner a few weeks ago. He's a lovely young man."

Jennifer laughed. "Yes, he is, but he also has his moments."

"Don't they all," Claire added.

"All what?" Debbie asked coming through the door.

"We were just talking about our sons," Jennifer said. "Michael, the one with dark hair, is Debbie's son."

"Unless I kill him first," Debbie said.

"What did Michael do?"

"He's been getting reports about Hunter all this time and he never said a word to me. I should ream his ass but good."

Claire looked at Emily whose eyes had gotten very big once again. "Hunter's been staying with us until he sorts himself out."

"Is Hunter gay too?"

"The jury's still out on that one," Debbie snapped. "What needs doing in here?" she asked Claire.

"The meat went on the barbecue just as you pulled up so I think we should be able to set everything else out on the tables. We're lucky it's such a lovely fall day and we can eat outside."

They all grabbed bowls and started carrying them out to the table. Before long they were all seated around the tables having loaded their plates and dug into the delicious fare. There was lots of talk and jokes and kibitzing. Emily and Dan Morrison watched with interest as these new friends of their son revealed more and more about themselves as the afternoon wore on.

When they finally finished eating everyone helped clear the tables and bring out the desserts. Most people were too full to eat and just lounged around while they waited for the coffee to brew.

Brian got up and went over to the old tree that held Gus' treehouse. He sat on the lowest step and lit a cigarette.

"Those'll kill ya," a voice said.

"So I've been told," Brian replied as he smiled at Dan Morrison.

"Is this the treehouse you told me about at dinner the other night?"

"Yeah, want the grand tour?"

"I'd love it."

Brian stood and crushed out his cigarette before leading Dan up the steps. They stopped at the first level and looked out at the group of people lounging around the tables. Some people waved at them. Brian saw Justin's sunshine smile and had to smile back. They climbed the rest of the way to the house and Brian opened the door.

"This is unbelievable," Dan said looking around. "A fireplace?"

"Yeah," Brian laughed. "Nothing but the best for my Sonny Boy. It runs on gel."

"I love this painting of you and Gus playing chess."

"Thank you," Justin said having decided to join his lover.

"Did you paint it, Justin?"

"I did."

"As I said, nothing but the best for us Kinney men." Brian leaned in and kissed Justin lightly on the lips.

Dan watched them. It seemed such a natural thing, so right for a loving partner to do. He wondered why he was so worried about Bobby's future life, especially if his son could have something like this.

"Your son is very lucky, Brian," Dan said.

"Thanks. I guess we should go down and join in eating the million and one calories that have so lovingly been provided for us."

"You can eat off my plate," Justin volunteered.

"My girlish figure is indebted to you," Brian laughed giving Justin another kiss.

Dan Morrison smiled as he followed them out of the treehouse.

While Claire and Debbie were making sure everyone had a piece of cake or slab of pie, Rachel, Bobby's sister pulled up. Bobby got up to greet his flustered sister.

"You're late," Bobby scolded.

"Tell me about it. Cindy had another soccer meet. I couldn't get out of car pool duty."

"Better late than never. Come and meet everyone. Hope you're hungry, we have tons of food."

"I'm starving. Hi everyone!" Rachel greeted the family en masse.

"This is my sister, Rachel," Bobby explained.

The whole gang shouted back, "Hi Rachel!"

"Oooo, she's lovely! Come and sit by me, honey. I want to hear all the dish on your hot little brother." Emmett got a chair for Rachel and she joined him at the table.

Bobby moaned out loud and mumbled, "I'll never live this down."

John chuckled softly and drew the younger man onto his lap. "You'll survive, baby. I promise." Bobby smiled at the soft hazel eyes that so comforted him and nuzzled John's ear. "Awww!" The family said collectively as Bobby's face turned a similar shade of red as his hair.

Even Bobby's mother smiled at the genuine affection John showed for her son. Emily couldn't help but notice how similar John and Brian were both physically and in their love for their partners. And how open everyone was in showing their affection for one another. Debbie may have been Michael's mother but it was obvious how much she loved Brian and all her boys. Emily discovered that under that bright red wig was the true Earth Mother of Liberty Avenue. She wondered how Carl was able to put up with it all then realized that Carl was Debbie's anchor. Debbie gave Carl the freedom to let loose as Carl grounded Debbie to earth.

Ted and Emmett were the singles of the group but somehow they didn't seem to mind and apparently being single didn't mean you were alone, at least if Emmett's tales of his sexploits were to be believed. And Emily wasn't sure if she believed him, although the family had no doubts. Ted appeared to be just what he looked like, a quiet accountant. And while he appeared mild and meek, Brian trusted him with his money and so did Steve. Ben and Michael were married and acted like they were still on their honeymoon and like any teenager, embarrassing Hunter with their open displays of affection. Emily suspected it was an act on Hunter's part and definitely no act on Ben and Michael's part. Emily was almost envious as Rachel joined in the fun, so accepting of the diversity that was sitting at the table.

Jennifer caught the wave of perplexity that flashed across Emily's face. She sat next to Emily and took the woman's hands in hers. "You've raised two beautiful children; you have a lot to be proud of." Emily smiled, she didn't quite grasp the whole of Jennifer's statement but she was proud of her children. Emily nodded in agreement.

Dessert was a quiet affair. Afterwards everyone helped to set up a table in the screened porch so that anyone who wanted to pick on the leftovers could at their leisure. The family broke up into smaller groups taking strolls to the stream, Emily and Rachel were given the treehouse tour and John gave Hunter back his watch.

John wanted to present the watch during the meal but Bobby convinced John to slip the watch to Hunter quietly. Ben and Michael didn't have to know that Hunter was robbed not unless Hunter told them himself and Bobby was sure he would later that night when they were alone. The overjoyed Hunter gave John a fierce hug.

Before the sun started to set Bobby and Brian wandered off to the stream. Bobby was nervous and wanted to sneak a cigarette from Brian.

"Better not let John see you do that. He'll ream the two of us out and not in a positive life affirming way," Brian quipped while lighting Bobby's cigarette. Bobby coughed a couple of times as the harsh smoke filled his lungs. Brian laughed.

"What's up, Bobby? You didn't follow me here to bum a smoke."

"I need your advice."

"My advice?" Brian questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes. What we talked about yesterday, at the cemetery. I'm going to speak to Steve tomorrow. I didn't want to do it today and ruin the party. I..."

"What?" Brian asked softly.

"Would you come with me?"

"Wouldn't you rather have your partner there instead?"

"I think I need an objective friend more. I did tell John about everything. He's a little torn up about it. He's known Steve for most of his life. In some ways he always hoped that Steve and Claire would get married. They are kind of suited for each other and have the same goals in mind for the Farm. If they got married John wouldn't be so worried about her being lonely."

"Who knows, Bobby, that may still happen. This farm has a way of performing miracles. I'll go with you. And I don't need an excuse. I think I still owe Steve money for cow therapy." Brian grabbed the cigarette from Bobby and snubbed it out. "You don't need that shit. Let's go back before a frog tries to slime me."

Bobby started to laugh when a bullfrog hopped out of his burrow for a last look around before his winter slumber. Brian jumped, both of them, the frog and Brian scurried off in opposite directions leaving Bobby in tears with hysterical laughter.

When Bobby rejoined the family, Brian was in full queen out mode, pacing the yard with Justin following closely trying to calm the man. Bobby's uncontrollable laughter took hold again as he described to the family Brian's run-in with the dreaded frog. The whole yard was brimming with laughter including the Morrisons. Across the yard Brian was holding up his arms describing a six foot bullfrog to Justin. Bobby caught Justin's eye and held up his fingers indicating a six inch bullfrog. Justin nodded then turned his attention back to his irate ranting lover. He flashed a 100 watt smile, batted the baby blues, stopping Brian in mid tantrum. Brian held open his arms for Justin.

"Awww!" the family exclaimed in unison as all was right in the world again.

Dan leaned over to Bobby, "Does that happen often?"

"What, Dad?"

"Brian's queen outs and Justin's remedy for them."

"You don't know the half of it," Bobby said as father and son shared the moment.

The afternoon was a complete success. The Morrisons left with a new understanding of their son's lifestyle; the Morrison family felt complete. Rachel left with new friends to keep in touch with and with new recipes. Steve, Bill and Gary left knowing that the work done by Steve and Bill with Hunter was paying off. The Anderson-Kinney family said good night to the Morrisons and continued cleaning up.


	14. Runaway Life

Hunter, Michael and Ben settled into the little cottage up the road from the Andersons. Things were kind of quiet as they walked through the house deciding where they were going to sleep. Hunter dropped his overnight supplies in the small bedroom leaving the big one for his parents, for that was what he considered Ben and Michael to be, in spite of their former differences.

They put the breakfast items Claire had sent with them into the fridge and Ben put the old kettle on to make a pot of tea for all of them.

"Do you want to talk about this tonight...or wait for breakfast?" Hunter asked.

"Let's get our tea and do it now," Ben suggested.

"So when are you coming home?" Michael demanded in that cow-eyed way he had of saying things that left no room for discussion.

"Michaelï¿½" Ben said trying to calm his partner and not start a fight.

"I... I'm not coming home," Hunter replied bluntly. They might as well get this all out in the open.

"What the fuck do you mean? You are coming home!"

"No, Michael, I'm not," Hunter repeated.

"Drink your tea and think for a moment. We can compromise, figure out a way to make it work so we can be together," Ben said reasonably.

"Compromise! I'm not fucking compromising!" Michael declared. "You have to go to school, you need your meds, you need us. So you're coming home."

"Yes, I do need all those things and I'm taking care of most of them. And I'm not coming home."

"What do you mean that you're taking care of them?" Ben asked, while Michael folded his arms and glared out into the room.

"I've started correspondence courses to finish high school. Bill's been letting me use the computer at the farm, but...I could really use a computer of my own."

"Figures!" Michael snapped. "We're only good for providing you with things you want."

"A computer is not something I want," Hunter retorted. "It's something I need. But if you don't want to help me I can keep using the one at the farm."

Michael glared at the boy.

"I'm glad to hear that you're continuing your education," Ben said gently. He ignored the daggers Michael was throwing at him with his eyes. "What about your meds?"

"Doc Adams checked me out, and then he contacted the hospital in Pittsburgh and ordered my meds. John has been paying for them, but now I have a job working at the farm and I can start paying for them myself."

"A job?" Michael broke in. "What kind of fucking job do you have at the farm? Shoveling shit?"

"That about covers it," Hunter shot back.

"You're doing the work of a farmhand?" Ben asked and Hunter nodded. "Are you sure you're up to it, that you're well enough."

"I just started recently, once I was feeling better. It's fine. And I like manual labor. I can see what I've accomplished at the end of the day."

"That's a good feeling," Ben agreed.

"That's totally unacceptable," Michael replied staring rigidly at the two.

"Michaelï¿½"

Just then Michael's phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket. "Brian, what's up?"

"Go easy on the kid," Brian's voice came back at him.

"What do you mean?"

"Hunter's a good kid, and he's trying to get his life together. Stop telling him what to do and listen to what he's telling you."

"How the fuck do you know what I'm doing?"

"I know you."

"You're an ass. Fuck off."

"It's his life; let him live it."

Michael snapped the phone shut and stared at Hunter. "Did you put him up to that?" he demanded.

"Me?" Hunter asked. "How could I put Brian Kinney up to anything? What did he say?"

"He told me to let you live your life the way you wanted to."

"That's good advice," Ben said receiving a steely glare from his partner.

"Michaelï¿½" Hunter began. "I think I want to counsel kids like me. I'm prepared to work here at the farm and try to achieve that goal. I can't... no... I won't , go back to that fucking school in Pittsburgh. I like it here."

Michael opened his mouth to say something but Ben cut him off. "Hunter, it's getting late. Why don't you go get ready for bed? We can talk more in the morning."

Hunter stood and looked at his two fathers. This had gone much as he suspected it would. He sighed heavily and headed to his room.

"Michael," Ben said, "Brian is right. It's Hunter's life."

"I know," Michael admitted, "butï¿½"

Michael found his mouth suddenly engulfed by his husband's and all talk of Hunter was forgotten.

In the barn Brian dropped his cell phone with his clothes near the sleeping bag.

"What did he say?" Justin asked looking up at Brian from where he lay beside him.

"He told me to fuck off."

Justin chuckled. "What did you expect?"

"I expected that I would be one more voice of reason along with Ben. Maybe it was enough to shut Michael up till morning."

"We can only hope," Justin said as he pulled Brian down on top of him. "Right now I don't want to think about Michael or Ben or Hunter." Each name was punctuated with a nip and a kiss of all the places that Justin knew drove his lover wild. Before long neither one of them was thinking about anything... they were just feeling all the delicious things they could do to each other.

"Hey, is it safe to come up? Some of us actually do need to sleep tonight, you know," John called out, looking up to the barn loft. He knew his brother and a very excited little blond were going at it like bunnies. Bobby was laughing in a most un-lawyer like fashion.

"Yeah, get a move on, old man! Claire expects us bright and early in the morning to help with breakfast," Bobby managed to get out in between guffaws. All of a sudden John and Bobby were pelted by clumps of straw that were pelting down on them. Then two heads appeared over the edge accompanied by dual raspberries.

"Oh very mature, and why do I have a feeling of deja vu?" John quipped as Bobby was trying to pick the straw out of John's hair. "Forget it, Bobby, I think there'll be a lot more straw in my hair later," John said smiling at his lover.

"Yeah," was all that Bobby answered as he began the climb up to the loft.

As the brothers and their lovers settled in for the night, Brian came up with an excuse to go to the Farm with Bobby in the morning.

"Bobby, I have to speak with Steve tomorrow before Justin and I go back to the Pitts. I may need your help. Would you go with me?" Brian asked in his most sincere voice.

"Sure," Bobby answered almost too quickly.

"Brian, why do you need Bobby to go with you?" John asked, turning over to see his brother's face in the dim light of the overhead bulb.

"Legal issues. My supposed loyal employee and accountant, Theodore, has been spending far too much of his time working on the Farm's accounts and not enough time on mine. I'm sure there's a conflict of interest going on somewhere," Brian shot back, hoping he sounded convincingly annoyed.

"I see." John wasn't stupid; he knew this had something to do with Bobby's confessions to him a month ago. But John loved Bobby and if he needed Brian to go with him, John would live with it. "I'm sure Bobby will be able to help you sort things out and prevent you from killing Ted," John said, hearing the sighs of relief from his lover and his brother. "Goodnight," John said as he snuggled next to Bobby.

"Goodnight," three voices answered back.

Early the next morning, the boys were up and in...in each other. Bobby was gently rocking in and out of his lover and Justin was blissfully bouncing on top of Brian having the ride of his life, at least one of the top ten rides. All four men groaned with their passions as they came, collapsing onto their partners. They lay for a moment, quiet, hugging tightly allowing their breathing to even out. Brian Kinney began to giggle and three men gaped at him in astonishment.

"Synchronized fucking, a new Olympic sport," Brian continued to giggle. Justin rolled off Brian as the giggling intensified and Justin joined in. John and Bobby did their best not to laugh until Bobby snorted and it was all over. The sounds of four men laughing like hyenas sent Beau packing and heading for the relative sanity of the house.

Bobby decided that he couldn't put off talking with Steve until after breakfast; if he waited any longer he'd chicken out. Grabbing Brian's arm, Bobby pleaded into Brian's eyes, "We have to go now."

Brian nodded; he whispered something to Justin who also nodded. Justin kissed Brian on the nose and sent Brian on his way. As Justin began to prepare himself for the onslaught of curious questions the family would inevitably ask, Brian and Bobby took the quick path through the trees to the Farm.

 

"You two are up early," Steve said to the panting men who entered the farmyard at full gallop. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Steve, I have to talk to you," Bobby replied, his chest heaving more from nervousness than from being out of breath.

"And you?" Steve looked at Brian.

"I believe I still owe you for cow therapy and Red, here, needed a friend."

Steve stared at the two men standing before him. Bobby looking so much younger than his thirty-three years, eyes frightened as if the intelligent, confident lawyer had evaporated into the boy of fourteen. Brian, ever the protector of blue-eyed, pale skinned twinks, stood fast, defiant under the scrutinizing gaze.

"Bet you two haven't eaten." Two heads shook. "Then come on in; can't think or listen on an empty stomach." Brian and Bobby obediently followed Steve into the cookhouse.

The coffee was brewing and the three men were buttering up some of Claire's biscuits. Bobby was beginning to chicken out. Brian did what he did best, he pushed.

"Steve, I hear you've known Bobby for a long time." Brian leered at Bobby as Bobby's eyes grew wide with shock then narrowed with anger.

"I've known him since he was a boy. A good kid, little skinny but he sure could throw a baseball. Used to see him when I went to Jimmy's games. Jimmy could hit and he played first base. I used to wonder what Jimmy would say to Bobby out there. Bobby'd strike out a player then crack up with laughter. All that red hair, like a flaming torch on the pitcher's mound. Then a new batter would be up and it was all business again until he got struck out." Steve got quiet as he remembered a good memory. Brian nudged Bobby and he began to stammer.

"He, he used to tell knock knock jokes. After I'd strike someone out, Jimmy would tell me a knock knock joke. I was nervous; the coach kept telling me how good I was but I never believed him. I didn't even understand how I was able to throw so hard. I just did. Jimmy knew, kept calling me a natural, like my hair. Said my red roots were connected to my arm and that's why I could throw. He knew I didn't believe I was really that good so he'd tell me jokes in between batters." Bobby was silent for a moment and closed his eyes.

"I was with him, that night, I was with him." Steve looked up from his coffee and saw the tears streaming down Bobby's face. Brian placed his hand on Bobby's shoulder as Bobby continued. "He dropped me off at home. I had a curfew. Jimmy pushed me out of the truck and said he'd see me on the baseball field. I never saw him again. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should have done something, said something to someone but I didn't know. I felt, I...."

Bobby started crying in earnest, he couldn't stop the twenty years of guilt and pain that came streaming out. Brian moved closer and placed his arms around the sobbing man.

Steve stood, scrubbing the tears from his face. His son had made some bad choices, choices that got him killed and a choice that possibly saved a boy's life. Steve walked around the table. Brian's eyes followed the big man, unconsciously hugging the smaller man closer. Steve placed a big paw on Brian's shoulder. Brian could see the man's eyes soften. He released his grip on Bobby and stood from his chair. Steve quickly took his place. Brian went out into the farmyard to have a smoke as Steve and Bobby healed one another.

Brian paced the yard. He heard nothing from the cookhouse. The air was still, the only noise, his boots crunching on the dried earth. He was about to light up another one when John and Justin came walking into the yard. Brian gave Justin a sneer.

"You try stopping him; he's almost as stubborn as you are," Justin explained to Brian.

"What's going on in there?" John nodded his head toward the cookhouse.

"A little walk down memory lane and confessions for the soul. John, Bobby had some things to say to Steve and I think Steve needed to hear them. They're both good men. Give them time to work things out." Two sets of hazel eyes met in agreement. Justin hoisted himself on the corral fence and watched while the brothers paced the yard.

After some time Bobby and Steve joined the trio in the yard. Bobby went directly to John who greeted the redhead with open arms. Brian wanted to say something comforting to Steve but was at a loss for words. Brian felt his stomach grumble then spoke up. "Steve, as good as your coffee was, I didn't get much of it and Red needs more than a biscuit to sustain him. My brother is insatiable at times; he'll wear out the poor boy. Let's go back to Claire's. I'm sure there's more breakfast to be had." Justin jumped down off the fence and nodded in agreement, then he and Brian ushered everyone back to Claire's for breakfast.

Meanwhile back at the cottage, Michael and Ben were cooking bacon and eggs when Hunter finally appeared. He looked at his two fathers and waited to see where the lay of the land was this morning.

"Morning, Hunter," Ben said. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, father dear. Excellently!" Hunter teased. They both chuckled.

Michael glared at both of them from where he buttered toast at the kitchen table. "Breakfast is ready. Sit down," he ordered with no glimmer of amusement on his face.

Ben shrugged and Hunter made a grimace as he took a seat at the table. They ate their breakfasts in uncomfortable silence. Finally Hunter couldn't stand it any longer.

"I'm sorry if I've disappointed you, Michael," he said.

"Well, you have." The arms came across the chest once again showing that Michael was unwilling to bend at all.

"It's my fucking life," Hunter exploded. "Not yours."

Michael glared at his foster son.

"Michaelï¿½" Ben said trying to placate his partner and make things better between the two men in his life. Michael remained unmoving staring straight ahead.

"Don't try to make him see some fucking sense, Ben," Hunter said standing up. "Obviously what he wants is more important than what you want, or heaven forbid, what I fucking want! I'm going back to the farm."

With that declaration Hunter ran back into his bedroom and reappeared with the duffel that had held his clothes for the night. He headed directly to the kitchen door. As he pulled it open, he turned back and yelled, "I thought you would understand, but I guess you're just like everybody else." He slammed the door behind him and started the walk back to the Andersons. The tears threatened to flow.

"Michael," Ben tried again.

"It's that fucking Brian who's responsible for this. He said on the phone that it's Hunter's life. I bet he's been fucking drilling that into the kid the whole time he's been up here."

"Michael, it isn't anyone's fault. It's what Hunter wants."

"Well, he's ruining his life, and I'll never forgive Brian for that." Michael stomped into the bedroom he had shared with Ben the previous night and slammed the door behind him.

"Well," Ben said to the empty room, "so much for breakfast and a reconciliation."

 

"What the fuck is that all about?" Debbie asked loudly as Hunter flew through the front door, slammed it shut then bounded up the stairs to his room, slamming that door shut behind him.

"Well, if I understand all the door slamming right, Hunter told Michael and Ben his plans for staying here, working on the Farm, finishing school via correspondence courses and eventually trying to be a counselor for kids like him. Michael is not amused," Brian answered softly as he sipped Claire's excellent brew.

"And what the fuck do you know about teenage boys and Hunter's plan?" Debbie leered at Brian. The whole family remained quiet watching the exchange between Debbie and Brian as if it were a tennis match. Unperturbed by Debbie's question, Brian peered over the brim of his coffee mug and gave Debbie an evil grin. Debbie sat with a huff. "Forget I asked that. You know a lot about teenage boys, especially the confused, blond type."

"Gee, thanks, Deb," Justin groaned out.

"No offense, Sunshine. Brian, seriously, Hunter, is that really what he wants to do with his life?"

"Let me answer that one," Bobby spoke up, sitting close to the loud redhead. "Debbie, Hunter is doing a great job at the Farm. If he wasn't, Bill and Steve wouldn't have offered him the job. It's not charity; it's a real job with benefits, health benefits. And we all know Hunter's medications aren't cheap. The other benefit is that Hunter feels like he's accomplishing something. He's saving up for a laptop and paying Claire rent."

"You asked him for rent?"

"No, Debbie, we didn't," Claire piped in. "Hunter wanted to contribute. I told him that he was contributing a lot by the chores he was doing around here. John and Bobby work long hard hours. Our yard and barn have never been this clean. He even managed to plug up the leak in that old rain barrel. The point is that he's taking responsibility for himself, for his life. He's stopped running away, he's walking toward something."

"But we miss him; Michael and Ben miss him."

"And he misses all of you. But Hunter needed a fresh start, somewhere safe where no one knows of his past, no one can judge him except for the job he does and how he conducts himself now." This time it was John who spoke for Hunter. "Debbie, he's learning how to take pride in himself. Try to help Michael see that."

Debbie nodded. "I think I need more coffee." Brian got up and refilled Debbie's mug.

"Thank you, kiddo."

"You're welcome, Maw."

Steve slipped out to check on Hunter. Steve knocked softly on Hunter's door and waited.

"Come in. Did they send you to check up on me?" Hunter spat out as Steve came in.

"Nope, I don't need any excuse to see my number one farmhand."

"I'm your only farmhand. So, are they all deciding what's best for me?"

"No. By now Debbie will be your staunchest ally besides Brian."

"You're shitting me, right?"

"Hunter, those people down there love you and yes they want what's best for you and they're willing to let you make your own decisions. Your dads will come around."

"Ben will but not Michael; he'll never accept my choices."

"And what if he doesn't? You going to quit, run home and do what they want you to do, what they think is best for you? I'm not saying what they want for you is a bad thing but it may not make you happy. So what are you going to do?"

"First, I'm going to go to the bathroom then I'm going downstairs to face everybody."

"And then?"

"Say good bye to what's left of my family and head back to the Farm with you. I have some more studying to do."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Something's changed."

"What's changed? What are you talking about?"

"You, something's different."

"You got that counseling certificate already? Come on; let's go get breakfast before Bobby and Justin eat it all."

"Yeah, blondie can sure pack it away."

Just before Steve and Hunter went downstairs, Steve drew Hunter into a bear hug.

"I have a good feeling about you, Jimmy."

Hunter looked up into the big man's eyes. "Yeah, me too."

Breakfast turned into brunch but when it was all over, every belly was full. All pitched in to set Claire's house to right and the cars were packed up. Ben and Michael finally came back to the main house to say goodbye to the Andersons. Michael huffed his goodbyes to everyone then went to wait in the car. Brian tried to talk to him but Michael refused to speak with him. Debbie, Carl and Ben gave Hunter a hug and a kiss and Hunter promised to call regularly and to email. With everyone ready to go, a goodbye hugfest ensued and a tentative Thanksgiving celebration was formulated. Carl and Debbie's car lead Temmett and Jennifer down the drive.

Brian and Justin had the Cherokee all packed and said their goodbyes to Claire, Steve and Hunter waiting until they went into the house before saying good bye to John and Bobby.

"You guys okay?" Brian asked addressing his brother and Bobby.

"Yeah, we're good," John answered for the both of them.

"That's good. I don't want a frantic phone call bitching about some stupid misunderstanding. I have better things to do than drive up here and kick some sense into either one of you," Brian griped.

"Don't worry, little bro, the next time I call will be to remind you about Thanksgiving," John countered.

"Oh fuck, another holiday and another family get together. Someone give me a fucking break...." Brian kept complaining as he hugged and kissed his brother and Bobby, and as Justin pushed him into the car. He kept on complaining as Justin drove out of the driveway, waving back at John and Bobby. John and Bobby laughed, shaking their heads as they could hear Justin's "I know, I know," as the car disappeared from view.


	15. Runaway Life

"They're not coming."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. If they were coming, they'd be here already."

"We still have an hour before dinner."

"Brian, you really think they'll show?"

"Yeah, I do. Look the munchers drove all the way from muncherville with the kids. You really think Debbie will let Michael ruin her Thanksgiving with her grandkids for him? Not on your life. Between her, Carl and the Professor, they'll have Mikey bound and gagged in the back of the car. They'll be here, Hunter, they'll be here."

"Brian, I really want them to be proud of me."

"They are, kid."

"Ben is; I'm not so sure about Michael."

"He is; he just doesn't know it yet."

"Have you talked to him?"

"No. He's still angry at me for agreeing with you. He refuses to take my calls, ignores me when I go to the shop or the diner."

"He's a stubborn asshole."

"Yeah, but he's our stubborn asshole."

"Yeah. I'm hungry, let's go pick on something."

"Sure."

"Bri?"

"They'll show. They have to."

As the family was all gathered and sitting around the tables a car drove up into the drive. A hush descended and the family could hear four car doors slamming shut.

"Ma! Stop pulling on my ear, I'm not a baby!"

"Then stop acting like one!"

The family couldn't help but hear Debbie's admonishment of Michael and his whining. Within moments the Novotny family was on the doorstep. Brian got up to open the door.

"It's about fucking time. We were just about to give thanks for the bounty on the table and for Hunter's asshole father."

"Ya know, kiddo, you're not too old to spank."

"Love you too, Maw," Brian said with a kiss to Debbie's cheek and pulling the woman aside as he led the family to their places at the table. "And thank you for getting him here. Hunter's been miserable."

"So has Michael." The Novotny clan took their places at the table then John led the blessing.

"Two years ago the only ones at this table were my mother, Steve and myself. Last year we added a few more people." The Liberty Avenue gang laughed at John's remark. "This year we're honored that Bobby's family has joined us." The Morrisons smiled at the shouts of, "hear, hear!"

"We have a lot to be thankful for. Now last year we all said a few words but if we did that this year we may not get to eat this fine meal that everyone helped to prepare until Christmas. So instead, I'd like to wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving and offer my congratulations to Hunter, who earlier this week received his high school diploma and has registered at Harrisburg Junior College. He'll start in the spring." The family was silent for a few seconds until John's words sunk in then the room roared with cheers for Hunter.

"Speech! Speech!" The family cried out. Slowly Hunter stood up, blushing; he addressed the family.

"A few months ago, me going to college seemed like an impossible dream. I was scared, lost and running away. I was lucky that the Anderson's found me and hooked me up with the right people. I'm very thankful and grateful and also very hungry. Let's eat!" The family cheered again then started passing around the dishes.

Hunter took surreptitious glances at Michael all through dinner. The rigidity of Michael's spine spoke volumes. Hunter knew that even with the announcement about college, Michael still hadn't forgiven him.

When dessert was brought out, Brian grabbed his jacket and headed down to the big rock for a smoke. It wasn't long before Hunter followed him.

"Can I have a puff?" Hunter asked indicating the cigarette in Brian's fingers.

Brian shook his head. "I've corrupted enough youth."

"Michael's still pissed at me, so what difference does it make?" Hunter demanded slumping against the big rock beside Brian.

"Did I not teach you anything?" Brian asked with a scowl.

"What are you talking about?"

Brian picked up a stone and skipped it across the water. Hunter watched and then smiled as he did the same. "Seems to me I taught you that," Hunter said with a smirk.

"That you did. And it just goes to show you that anybody can learn anything, only sometimes the lesson gets forgotten."

Hunter shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"The last time we had one of our little meetings on the rock I told you that it was your life, and the only person you were responsible for was yourself."

"Isn't that what I did by staying here and choosing what I wanted to do with my life?"

"Exactly. So why are you letting Mikey's pissy attitude bring you down?"

"I...I love Ben and Michael. I owe them so much. But I want Michael to be happy for me, happy that I've found a ï¿½ purpose."

"He is happy for you."

"He sure as fuck could have fooled me."

"That's just Michael. Until he finds a way to make all this his idea, he won't truly accept it."

"What?"

"Look, I've known Michael for a long time. He really doesn't take to change very well, unless he thinks it's his idea."

"But this isn't his idea. He had nothing to do with it."

"And that's why he has such a problem with it."

"But knowing that doesn't make it any better."

"It would if we can figure out how to make Michael think this was all his doing," Brian said as the wheels turned in his head.

"How the fuck can we do that?"

"I think I have a plan," Brian said as he quickly described what he had in mind. "Stay here and I'll send him down," Brian said as he headed back to the house.

Michael was sitting in a corner with his arms folded across his chest. He looked miserable. Brian knew he probably regretted taking such a tough stand against Hunter, but he was too proud and stubborn to admit it.

Justin came towards Brian with a questioning look on his face. He could tell something was up. "What's going on?" he asked Brian.

"Stand back and watch. If I need your help to drag Michael out of here, can I count on it?"

"Absolutely! Do I get to smack him if he doesn't cooperate?" Justin chuckled.

"If he doesn't cooperate, I'll smack him first. You get the second shot."

"Deal," Justin said with a smile as he retreated to the other side of the room finding a convenient seat to watch the proceedings.

"Michael," Brian said.

"I have nothing to say to you."

"I figured as much," Brian sighed. "So listen instead." Michael glared at his former friend. "Are you listening?" Brian asked.

"I'm fucking listening. What do you want to say?"

"You're behaving like an absolute jerk."

"Thanks for that detailed analysis of the situation. Now fuck off."

"Hunter's down by the stream. Go talk to him. This has gone on long enough."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Yes, you are," Brian hissed getting angry at Michael's continued obstinacy. "You can go of your own volition or I'll drag you out there."

"You and who else?" Michael said defiantly.

"Not that I'll really need any help, but Justin has volunteered and I'm sure Ben will help, and then there's your mother."

"All right, all right," Michael said. "I'll go, but it isn't going to do any good. I still think Hunter's making a mess of his life."

"Put your feelings aside for a moment and talk to Hunter."

"Yes, your highness."

"Good. I'm glad that's settled." Brian tossed Michael his jacket and Michael made his way slowly out the door.

"Do you think that will solve anything?" Debbie asked Brian as the door closed behind her son.

Brian shook his head. "How the fuck should I know, but it's worth a try."

Michael walked slowly towards the stream. Beau bounded along with him always happy to have company, although this human didn't seem like very much fun. It was better than all the noise the other humans made in his barn.

"Do you have advice for me too, dog?" Michael asked. Beau barked. "I'm trying," Michael said as he approached the stream. He could see Hunter sitting on the big rock.

Hunter heard Beau's bark and smiled slightly. Brian had been able to get Michael down here. Now the rest was up to him. He stood up and skipped a stone across the water. He knew Michael was watching, but his foster father wasn't saying anything. He could play the waiting game too. He skipped another stone.

"When did you learn to do that?" Michael asked.

Hunter smiled before he turned around and looked at Michael. "Bill taught me how a couple of weeks after I came here."

"Why did you come here?"

"I told you it was an accident. I didn't really have anything in mind when I left Pittsburgh. Things conspired to send me this way."

"And now you want to stay?"

Hunter nodded before he picked up a stone and managed to make it skip five times before it sank. "Wow, I got five," Hunter said proudly.

"Is that good?"

"Damn right! I couldn't get it to skip at all at first. Want to try?"

Michael shook his head. "I wouldn't be any good at it."

"Brian said he wouldn't be any good either, but I managed to teach him," Hunter said proudly.

"You taught Brian to skip stones?"

"Yep." Michael shook his head again. "Come on, give it a try."

"Okay," Michael replied thinking that if it was good enough for Brian, it was probably good enough for him. "Show me what to do."

Beau watched the two humans wondering if this was another of those times when they were going to try to fill up the stream with all the little pebbles they could find. He laid down in the grass and watched.

Hunter found a stone and positioned Michael, showing him the proper arm action. Michael's first attempts were pathetic, but Hunter was encouraging and by the fifteenth stone, Michael got it to skip.

"See, you can do it," hunter said daring to give Michael a hug for his achievement. "I knew you could do it."

Michael smiled. "You're a good teacher, Hunter."

"Thanks, that's what Brian said too."

Michael stared at Hunter. How much time had Brian and Hunter shared together while he had been moping around and refusing to talk to either of them.

"This was the first thing that I learned here at the farm," Hunter continued trying to seize the moment. "I told Bill that it was absolutely useless. He said that accomplishing anything is good for the soul. After that I started to feel better."

"You did?"

"Yeah, and I've learned lots of other stuff too. I like it here, and I'm going to learn lots more at Harrisburg Junior College."

"Couldn't you learn it back in Pittsburgh?" Michael asked with his patented pout.

"I guess I could, but I've had enough of the assholes I ran into there."

"Including me and Ben?"

"No, never you two. I want to be part of your family, I really do. But I need to do this for myself."

"Did Brian teach you that too?" Hunter looked at Michael questioningly not sure what he meant. "How to be a selfish prick?"

Hunter laughed. "Yeah, something like that."

"Well, I guess if you can be as successful and happy as Brian is these days, then you should go for it."

"You mean it?" Hunter asked with a huge smile.

"I mean it," Michael said as he opened his arms and they shared a true, meaningful hug.

As they released each other from their hugs, they heard Beau growl.

"Beau, what's wrong?" Hunter asked. The dog barked at something in the grass. "What is it, boy?" Hunter asked as he walked over to where the dog was crouched down.

Both he and Michael heard a loud 'ribbit' from the grass and saw the last huge bullfrog of the fall.

"Oh, I know just what we have to do with this," Michael said.

"Me too," Hunter agreed as he trapped the frog and picked it up. He managed to stuff it into the pocket of his jacket without hurting it.

Moments later accompanied by Beau, they walked into the house. Everyone looked up holding their breath till they found out what had happened.

"Well, don't just stand there," Debbie yelled. "Is everything straightened out?"

"Fuck yeah," Hunter crowed and Michael smiled his agreement.

Debbie gave each of them a big hug and everyone clapped them on the back.

"We even have a present for the person who made this all possible," Michael said looking at Brian.

"You shouldn't have," Brian said with a smirk.

Hunter drew the bullfrog out of his pocket and it let out one more large 'ribbit'.

Brian's smirk disappeared and he slunk back in his chair. "You really shouldn't have! Get that fucking thing out of here."

"But it's your reward for meddling," Michael said as Hunter held the frog out towards Brian.

"I'll save you, my prince," Justin called as he stepped forward, grabbed the frog from Hunter and quickly tossed it out the door.

"Hey, blondie!" Hunter objected.

"My hero!" Brian smiled as Justin returned to receive the appropriate thanks and a kiss, with future compensation to come later that night.

All was right in the land of Kinney.

Thanksgiving evening was waning. As the Morrisons were preparing to go home. John, ever the proper host was getting their coats. "Dr. Morrison, may I speak with you a moment?"

"Of, course John." John ushered Dan into his study.

"Dr. Morrison..."

"Call me Dan; I think you deserve it."

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate that. Dan, I'm not getting any younger and I wasted a lot of time looking for the right woman only to find out that I should have been looking for the right man. Now that I've found him, I don't want to let him go. In spite of the obvious, I'm a traditional man. What I'm trying to say is that I want to marry your son. I'm asking your permission; I'd like to ask Bobby later tonight." John held his breath as his possible future father-in-law pondered the request.

"John, this is all new to me. Is it possible for you two to get married, here, in Pennsylvania?"

"No, but we can have a commitment ceremony and then later go to another state that does perform same sex weddings. It doesn't matter what we call it, I'd like to have a ceremony in front of our friends and family to declare our commitment to each other before witnesses. Dan, I'll take good care of him, not that he can't take care of himself. He's good for me and I promise to make him happy."

"I have no doubt that you'll make my son happy, you have already. And you've helped him through a difficult patch. We spoke about what happened that night. I never knew and I never knew how close I was to losing him. John, you have my blessing. Besides, it would be nice to have another man to talk to. Rachel and her girls. Poor George, he knows more about which pink sweater goes with what skirt than the Pirates." John and Dan shared a laugh then quickly joined the rest of the family to say goodnight.

Steve was getting ready to go back to the Farm. He said his goodnights to everyone then Bobby walked him out.

"Steve, are we okay? I mean, do you want another lawyer to handle the Farm?" Bobby asked with apprehension.

"Bobby, why would I want to do something like that? Next to John, you're one of the most honest men I know. For almost twenty years we've suffered, avoided some truths, ran away. It's time to put that all behind us. It's a fresh start for all of us. Goodnight Bobby, tell Claire thank you again for the wonderful meal and I'll see Hunter bright and early on Monday."

"I will. Goodnight, Steve. Happy Thanksgiving."

"Okay, so tell me again how this is going to work." Brian asked John sarcastically. "I knew I should have put out for motel rooms."

"Why not, you've always put out in the past," Ted quipped as he went into the kitchen for another cup of coffee.

"Theodore, just because it's Thanksgiving doesn't mean I won't fire you," Brian shot back. Ignoring the looks Ted was giving him, Brian turned his attention back to John.

"One more time. The munchers, shit, Lindsey, Mel, and their kids take Bobby's and my room. Your sister and the kids will be in the cottage. Jennifer bunks with my Mom. Carl and Debbie take Hunter's room."

"Hunter's room. It is his room, isn't it? He's going to be here for a while, isn't he?"

"Yeah. He's a good kid, Brian. He wants this to work. He really wants to be a counselor to kids like himself."

"I know that and I also know he'll make it. Now, where are we going to sleep?"

"The barn."

"I was afraid you were going to say that. John, it's fucking freezing out. Can I blame you if my balls freeze and fall off?"

"First of all, the barn is a lot warmer than you think and it's heated. Number two, we'll take the loft space. We have the sleeping bags and they're rated to well below freezing. Michael, Ben and Hunter will be on the floor of the barn in a tent with their own sleeping bags. Although it's heated it sometimes gets a little drafty down there. Number three, I'm sure a certain blond will do his damnedest to keep you warm. And lastly, you only have one ball to freeze."

"Low blow, bro."

"I know but I couldn't help it. Oh, Ted and Emmett take the living room."

"Shit, why can't the certain blond and I take the living room?"

"Because you two are far too noisy when you fuck."

"Shit. All right, let's get this fiasco on the road."

With the sleeping arrangements all confirmed and each family member ensconced in his or her bed, Thanksgiving 2006 was coming to an end.

The boys were up in the loft space snuggled together with their partners quietly snickering at the normal family banter that was emanating from the tent on the barn floor below. Each whine from Michael, gripe from Hunter and attempt at compromise from Ben brought smiles to the four men up top.

Brian and Justin managed to surprise John and Bobby once again. Brian made love to his blond very quietly, coming within moments of each other with soft moans. John and Bobby were doing some moaning of their own in their sleeping bags. When it was all over, the only sounds heard were the wind rustling through the trees and the soft snores from the men below.

"Bobby, I asked your father for his permission."

"Permission for what?"

"To marry you. I know we've discussed it but now I'm asking again and in front of Brian and Justin. Bobby Morrison, will you marry me, be my husband?"

"John, I..."


End file.
